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LIFE'S 



REAL ROMANCE, 



A PICTURE FROM LIFE 



1838 TO 1883, 



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PUBLISHER'S PREFACE. 

This book is exactly what it is named. There is no fiction in it ex- 
cept the names, which I have changed at the writers request. As most of 
the characters in it are living. I give it to the public in the same condition 
in which it was written, in a journal of every day life. All of this first 
volume was written by a relative of mine and his son, excepting a few inci- 
dents in the parts on England and Canada, and the fragmentary verses and 
criticisms which'are by myself. R. A. N. H. 



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CHAPTER r. 

Incidents in the life of Jonathan E. Howard, as recorded by his son, 
Arthur N. Howard from manuscript and letters ^iven him by his father. 
J. E. Howard was born in 1819. "When 19 years of age I was sent to 
my oldest brother Timothy Howard an insurance agent in the town of 
Waterford, but preferring mechanics loacomercial life, I returned to Cork 
my native city. After 13 months residence with my brother, my father 
applied to a friend of his, an architect in Belfast to have me indentured to 
him. But he asked the sum of /"500 premium and £1^0 a year for board 
and clothing w^hich was not accepted as my father preferred to have me 
nearer home and ultimately articled me to Mr. John Duncan, who was 
much indebted to some cousins of mine, who were engaged in the lumber 
business, whereby I was taken without premium, and boarded at home. 
Mr. Duncan was architect to the Eccleciastical commissioners also to the 
harbor board of the the city of Cork. The indenture was made out as 
follows: This indenture witnesseth that Jonathan E. Howard, son of 
Timothy Howard of the City of Cork, architect, doth put himself appren- 
tice unto John Duncan of the city of Cork, architect and master builder, 
to learn his art with him, after the manner of an apprentice from the seven- 
teenth of March, 1836, unto the full end and term of seven years, from 
thence next followmg to be fully completed and ended, from which 
term the said apprentice his said master faithfully shall serve, his 
secrets keep, his law^tul commands everywhere gladly do. He shall do not 
damage to his said master, nor see it done by others, but that to his power 
shall or forthwith give warning to his said master of the same. He shall 
not waste the goods of his said master, nor give, nor lend them unlawfully 
to any, he shall not commit fornication, nor contract matrimony within the 
said term, hurt to his master he shall not do, cause or procure to be done, 
by others, he shall not play at cards, dice, table, or any other unlawful 
games whereby his saitl master may have loss with his pwn or other goods 
during the said term. Without license of his master he shall neither buy, 
nor sell, he shall not haunt or use taverns, ale-houses, nor play-houses, nor 
absent himself from his said masters service, day nor night unlawfully, but 
in all things as an honest, faithful apprentice, he shall behave himself to 
his said master during the said term of seven years. And said John Dun- 
can, his said apprentice in the same art which he useth, by the best way 
and means that he can, shall teach and instruct, or cause to be taught and 
instructed, with the correction finding unto his said apprentice for the last 
two years of said term, according to tne custom of the, and for the preform- 
ance of, all and every, the said contracts and agreements, either of said 
parties bindeth themselves to the other by these presents. In witness a here- 
of, the said parties above named to these indentures, have interchangeably 
put their hands and seals. 

The first three years was chiefly in the office, at drawing and calcula- 
tions, and in the workshops at modelling etc., during which apprenticeship I 
had a very happy time in being engaged in things more congenial to my 
tastes than merchantile life. Not only then engaged at the ol^ce work but 



1.IFES REAL ROMANCR. 



als# much travelling about to visit works during their execution, compris- 
ing of repairs to some churches and the building of free churches to the 
south of Cork City besides similar works to private residences. Also the 
superintending of the building of work-houses in Cork, Kilmallock, Dun- 
garven and elsewhere. Also quays and other waterworks at Cork and 
Queensiown, on some of which were employed as many as four hundred 
men, including mechanics and laborers the former averaging three shillings 
per day, the latter ten pence in country places, and m cities somewhat 
higher, which is a great contrast to the present rates. We assisted Mr. 
James Arton, Architect of the board of public works, of Dublin, in taking 
soundings along the River Lee, when the tide was out, for the line of the 
reclaiming wall. As there was a broad tract of the shallow bed of ibe river 
exposed when the tide was out, over which a railroad was to run. Which 
tract of land has since been reclaimed by building a long, high, retaining 
■Wall, (called the Navigation wall) to keep the deeper channel free from mud, 
"and also to keep the water from the shallow bed that was reclaimed, which 
has since been made a park and pleasure ground. We only superintended 
the building of the navigation wall and the soundings for the line of rail- 
way. We had to make we^oden sleighs to hold two persons each drawn 
by men with ropes over the mud, six to each, without their trowsers. This 
was how the soundings were taken for hard bottom. About this time 
iradhvays were commenced in Ireland and the route of the Cork & Passage 
railway was laid out. 

While engaged superintending the repairs of Columbine quay, at 
Queen^town, a very severe storm arose one night, and washed some fisher- 
men and their boats ashore, who were returning heavily laden with lish. 
chiefly herrings, but the beach being shallow, most of the men were saved. 
It was quite a scene next morning to see the men, women and children, 
out in the water, trying to gather the fish. On the south side of this har- 
bor, at a place called Sleiv Rue, Red Mountains, lived a Mr. Gustave Dor- 
rington for whom Mr. Duncan designed a large house and on one occasion, 
when I went down to see how the work was going on, I saw a large 
number of horses capering on the highlands near the shore, and was told 
of a curious occurance regarding an English lady passenger on board a 
steamer, who was under the impression that some of the Irish were quite 
wild. When coming near the shore she was show^n some of these horse, 
frisking on the Highland as a specimen of the wild Irish, whether the story 
is true or not I cannot say, but I was reminded of it by an after occurrence 
when in the the county of Essex in England, I was actually asked by e, 
young man by no means devoid of ordinary intelligence, whether it waa 
really true, that some of the Irish were wild. I of course undeceived him. 

During the time of my apprentiship I had frecjuent opportunities when 
traveling to and from works, of seeing many places of interest. For in- 
' stance Barry's Court, near Middleton, County of Cork, which is interest- 
ing in having a very fine heavy old fashioned dark Irish roof of which there 
are not many examples. The Abby and Monastery of Kilmallock, is over 
six hundred years old. Most of the masonry is in excellent condition, the 
angles of the tower being very accurate and upright, and the tooling on 
the stone work very apperent, after such a lapse of sime. The tomb of the 
White Knight and others were in very good order. In the Monastety was 
a fire-place, the arch of which was perfectly flat and in a perfect condition, 



liff/s real romance. 



which struck me as a remarkable feature of good workmanship, for the age 
in which it was was built . Not many miles from there on the road to 
Limeric is a small lake called Lough Zurr, in which is an island, having a 
small church with a stone roof, over nine hundred years old, and in a 
tolerable state of preservation. Those sort of roofs, are semi-circular or 
arched shaped insiile, and sloping and pointed like an ordinary roof out- 
side. In this locality are some of the old Palistine and Huguenot refugee 
families with their long strips of farms, which look conspicious amongst the 
irregular ones. Running from Tipperary through Limeric, is the celebrat- 
ed golden vein of land, ho called from its fertility being a deep dark loam. 
While superintending the building of a work house in Limeric, I had 
frequent opportunities to take rambles and journeys to various parts or the 
country. On holidays, which were frequent among catholic workmen, 
and sometimes on business. When going to Clogheen on business, I saw 
Mitchelstown and Shanbally castle. The latter,'the seat of Lord Lismore, 
the former, the seat of the Earl ot Mitchelstown. In this castle the dining 
is ninety feet long, forty feet wide and thirty feet high. It is a much plain- 
er and heavier structure than Shanbally Castle, v.hich is a much hand- 
somer, and more superbly executed piece of architecture, costing ninety-five 
thousand pounds and was not then entirely finished. While I was taking 
a sketch of the castle, a servant man came and told me that his lordship said 
I might see the interior of the castle which I could only do hurridly as I 
was on my to the celebrated Mitchelstown caves nearly three quarters of 
a mile underground. They are of limestone formation, with a considerable 
amount of ctalactites hanging from the roof. I also saw the mansion of 
Ogrady, called Kilballyowen, which has a very fine park in which were 
several very handsome, spotted deer they appeared perfectly tame. When 
some of them were crossing a sunken fence it was perfectly beautiful to see 
the ease with which they bounded across it. While in this part of the 
country, I took several very pleasant excursions to a mountain, a few 
miles oft', and to old ruins. While going up the Shinnon, to Killaloe slate- 
works , I saw some of the effects of the great fanzine ancl riots, that occur- 
red at Limeric. Mobs were breaking open bakeries and flour stores in 
various parts of the city, notwithstanding the efforts of the police and 
soldiers to check them. On one occassion, I saw a mob pulling sacks of 
flour out of ashi|) on to the quay and breaking them open. While doing 
so they were suddenly suprised by a troop of soldiers who dashed down 
a street close by, and the foremost trooper threw his lance into the middle 
of the crowd; and it struck in a bag of flour without hurting any one, but 
it had the eftect of frightening them oft", which was all the soldiers wanted. 
And they made very few arrests, out of pity to the people. With the finish- 
ing of this work house my time was up wirh Mr. Duncan, and I returned 
home. 



CHAPTER II. 

I remained at home a few months: while there my cousins, the Der- 
wents, who were in the timber business, wanted me to set up in Cork, as 
Mr. D. was about to retire, having made a considerable amount of money. 
But I had conceived a tlesire about this time of going to London to see 



Q life's REAL ROMANCE. 

public works and buildings of a superior kind, and so declined their kind 
offer. In the fall of 184c I started for London, taking steamer from Wa- 
lerford. We encountered a severe gale off the Saltee Islands, and though 
it was my first trip to sea I was not at all sick. Next morning we got near 
Bristol; I was interested at the sight of a great bar chain high up in ihe 
air across the river from hill-side to hill-side, which was the commence- 
ment of preparations for a suspension bridge. I was not long in England 
before I was struck with the contrast between it and Ireland from the sce- 
nery on my way from Bristol to London. It was not only the different 
character of the country (more fiat and rolling and not so hilly as Ireland) 
but there was a greater air of comfort and neatness about all the places we 
saw on our way. But on arriving at the great metropolis my feelings of 
surprise were still greater on beholding the vast multitude of people and 
vehicles moving about in all directions, and the almost endless houses and 
streets. As my place of abode was to be near the east end of London, 
close to London Bridge, I had a long journey by omnibus through crowded 
streets. I felt almost as if I would never get to the end of the journey. I 
had a letter to Mr. lite, the architect of the Royal Exchange, but as he 
had no vacancy just then he gave me an introduction to Messrs. Starling 
and Morton, the church and work-house architects, which kind of work I 
was more used to. They had no vacancy either, but promised me one in a 
few weeks. In the meantime I went sight seeing. 

I went one morning early before breakfast to the top of St. Paul's, 
into the ball underneath the cross at the top of the cupola; it is said to be 
something over three hundred and seventy feet high, and the ball is twelve 
feet in diameter, made of sheet copper gilded on the outside, as is also the 
cross. They are supported by several strong bars of metal about three or 
four inches thick. The object of going up early was to get a good view of 
the city before the smoke of the numberless houses and factories obscured 
the atmosphere, and certainly it was a grand view. Horses drawing omni- 
buses in the streets reminded one of the industrious fleas that an ingenious 
individual harnessed to a coach; and though St. Paul's is on a tolerable 
rise < f ground, the whole city and country around appeared somewhat like 
a great basin; at this time the city was nine miles wide and fifteen long. 
Underneath are numerous monuments of notable persons, and over the 
center is the great whispering gallery — circular. When a person drops a 
hankerchief at one side it bounds to a person at the other side as if a sack 
of grain had fallen. On going into one of the clock towers in the front it 
happened to strike for the quarter, and the noise was so sudden and close 
that it made one deaf for some minutes after. There is also a vast library 
in the church. A short time after this the great fire of the Tower of Lon- 
don took place. It happened just at the time the great moat was empty 
of water. It was not the tower itself but the great armory adjoining it, and 
the conflagration was irresistible on account of the want of water. The 
several floors of the armory were loaded with stands of arms, all of which 
I had fortunately seen some days before the fire took place. It was a ter- 
rible loss that could not be repaired, as many of the arms were relics of 
ancient victories. I went a few days after to see the ruins, and not only 
the small arms were melted and distorted but even cannon .were rendered 
useless. The center tower was uninjured so that Queen Elizabeth's or the 
horse armory escaped damage. In the chambers where prisoners of former 



life's real romance. 



days were confined, inscriptions may be seen cut in the wall by them. 
Another place of great interest to spend the day is the British Museum at 
which it would at least take a week to get acquainted with it. The libra- 
ry is immense. The collections of stuffed birds and animals, fossils, skele- 
tons of antediluvian and other animals are extremely interesting. There 
is a skeleton of a great mammoth found in Labrador, under which the 
skeleton of an elephant stands crossways. The massive legs are perfectly 
surprising; the fore legs differ from the elephant's in having' claws instead 
of toes and they bend upwards like a human arm. It has no probosis like 
the elephant, and the tusks are longer and more slender, bending horzion- 
tally sideways. It is supposed to enable it to make its way through the 
heavy cane brake and reeds of the age it lived in. It seems to have had the 
habit of sitting on its hind quarters and scratching up roots on which it 
fed with its fore claws and passing them up to its mouth, because the circu- 
lar bend of the tusks would prevent them from putting their mouths to the 
ground. The fossiliferous remains of other antediluvian animals such as 
flying lizards and other extraordinary reptiles are exceedingly interesting 
as showing the early date of the world. There were also splendid collec- 
tions of minerals. Westminster Abbey like St. Paul's is a splendid monu- 
ment of architectural skill, but being a Gothic edifice takes our thoughts 
back to a different age and people from that of St. Paul's which is a com- 
mon style of architecture. The former has been more honored with the 
monuments of kings and great inen of which there are some splendid speci- 
mens, such as Henry the Seventh's chapel. Here may be seen the corona- 
tion chair and the stone brought from Scotland of which it is traditionally 
said that no king will ever reign in Scotland till it is returned to their throne 
again. At the north side of Charing Cross is the national gallery, which 
contains the national collection of paintings of all masters both ancient and 
modern. One day would only allow a cursory glance through them. A 
lover of fine arts could spend more than an hour in gazing ©n one of them. 
At the head of Regent street is the Polytechnic Institution where scientific 
lectures are given, and models of various kinds of works of art, curious 
and ingenious inventions are deposited for exhibition. There is a diving 
bell suspended in water, into which many people go for the noveltv of it. 
Farther on at the north side of Regent's Park is lo be seen the celebrated 
zoological gardens where may be seen many of the most remarkable birds, 
animals and reptiles of the world. They are too numerous to give a short 
description of and even to take a hurried glance at the whole of them 
would take a full day. There are very nice refreshment places where tea, 
coffee, cakes and sweetmeats can be had at reasonable prices by those who 
wish to spend a very pleasan t and interesting day in the gardens. The 
young people are mostly entertained with mischievous monkeys, talkative 
parrots and rides on elephants. Grown people find attraction in the croc- 
odiles, snakes and other reptiles, orang-outangs, hippotamus and elephants 
and their young. Their neighbors the rhinocerous even in their captive 
state show their great antipathy to the elephent by putting their heads over 
the fences and trying to fight with them. The hippopotamus delights in 
rolling about in the water and occasionally opens his enormous jaws when 
the people throw him something to induce him to do so. The numerous 
bears afford considerable entertainment, chiefly the cinnamon, white and 
grizzly. In going on to the sloth and other minor species a sort of relation- 



i 



LIFE S IlEAL ROMANCE. 



ship is easily perceived between them and the bears. At four o'clock thft 
feeding of carnivorous animals becomes a great attraction to see them 
bounding over each other and howling for their food. The reptile house 
is also a considerable attraction; but it is rather a melancholy sight to see 
the poor rabbits, goats and fowls shivering with terror when the reptiles 
fix their ijiitiering eyes on them before darling upon their prey. The seals 
are remarkably interesting from their docile and affectionate ways. 

The gardens are laid out with considerable taste, winding walki with 
flowers and evergreens. Also an imitation of fair Rosamond's bowei, 
where some people amuse themselves trying to find their way through the 
labyrinth. In Regent's Park, near to Regent street, are the beautiful 
botanical gardens where almost endlcsss varieties of Bowers and plants 
may be seen in various stages of perfection. The Kew gardens are also 
very attractive with their numerous green-houses and conservatories and 
the interesting museum of c\iriosities from the South Sea Islands and other 
places. Also the ponds with the celebrated plants called Victoria Regina 
spreading themselves upon the surface. At the head of Regent street is 
also the Diorama, an immense circular picture of London and its surround- 
ings as taken from the top of St. Paul's. It is seen from an elevated posi- 
tion in the center representing the cupola of St. Paul's and is very interest- 
ing to those who would not like to make the ascent of the other. Madame 
Tousseau's exhibilion of wax work figures is also well worth seeing; here 
may be seen representations of all ranks of society, such as crowned heads, 
statesmen, warriors, men of learning and criminals, all in juxtaposition 
forming remarkable contrasts in their various costumes of the past and 
present age. London also at that time contained many remarkable con- 
trasts in buildings. The great overhanging wooden edificts of former 
ages in older streets contrasting very much with the splendid brick and 
stone architecture of the present time. Some of the old ruins with their 
internal and projecting galleries above and around the square had much of 
comfort and convenience in them. Put city ground has risen so much in 
value that many of those old relics are fast giving place to modern improve- 
ments, wider streets, splendid squares and parl:s, adding greatly to the 
health of that enormous city. Considering its former narrow streets with 
houses projected above, almost shutting out the daylight; gargoyles or pro- 
jecting water-spouts from the roof dropping water on the people's heads, 
and only surface drainage retaining much filth and dirt and crowded tene- 
ments, it is no wonder that there should have been a plague in the earlier 
days of London. The underground sights are a wonder in themselve; the 
enormous water-pipe and gas-pipe arrangements adding greatly to the 
health and comfort of the city. Much of this can be seen when the work- 
men enter boats to perform repairs in the main sewers. In addition to this, 
in eighteen hundred and sixty, the underground railway was in course of 
construction to relieve the enormous traffic on the streets above. Life on the 
Thames even then was as great a contrast to the former ages as that on land. 
The enormous amount and variety of water craft, crowded steamers wdth 
their living freights, heavy barges with goods, and numberless varieties of 
smaller crafts down to the tiny wherry propelled by sails and oars crowded 
the surface of the river almost as much as people and vehicles on the streets. 

And I often think it is most wonderful, to think how few accidents 
there are in proportion to the vast amount of trafhc going on. I have often 



LIFES REAL ROMANCE. 



had to wait over fifteen minutes— unless I made a dash between or under 
horses — to cross the street, which I was often obliged to do as well as 
others. Though the London Bridge of the present day is a splendid con- 
trast to the old one with its crowded houses on each side, the traffic 
while I was there Mas so dense it was (juitea tedious matter for either peo- 
ple or vehicles to cross over faster than at a moderate walk. At the west 
end the streets are not so crowded, and out-door sights arc more easy. The 
liorse guards at the entrance of Green Park are splendid specimens of 
humanity, every man over six feet high clad in helmet and cuirass, sitting 
on large heavy horses. One need not wonder on beholding them that they 
were able to accomplish what they did at Waterloo. The Queen's Palace 
in the park is a contrast to the old St. jamcs, where the state ceremonies 
are held, by an order from the Lord Chamberlain. After a suitable refer- 
ence or introduction one can get to see the palace. It was very amusing 
on one occasion, when standing near the staircase, to sec the Queen pass 
down to lunch; the Queen small and dignified and the great big Duchess 
of Sutherland following after. Farther down the river is Chelsea Plospital, 
the last home of old pensioned soldiers, which forms an attraction to the 
lovers of military life — v\here those who prefer hearing tales of military 
heroism from the lips of the disabled participants can do so. Farther 
down is the Greenwich Hospital, the home of the naval pensioners, where 
the poor old fellows are just as proud to relate their anecdotes. The hos- 
pital is a very tine commodious building facing the river on the side of a 
hill, with large squares for walking about in fine weather and long open 
galleries for wet weather. They have a good view of their native element, 
with ships, steamers and boats plying up and down the river. It is quite 
an interesting sight to see them sitting down to long rows of tables to their 
meals apparently very happy. Farther up the river are the Greenwich and 
Deptford dockyards, where enormous ships are built under equally enor- 
mous roofs with top lights in them. In numerous sheds are stowed away 
classified parts of a ship ready to be put together on the shortest notice in 
case of war or any other emergency. The government have also very 
fine dockyards at Chatham and Sheerness, farther down the river, of which 
I took some sketches from the hill-side. The fortifications parti) consist of 
deep and broad excavations, called the lines of Chatam, and a sight worth 
seeing. The great docks in the neighborhood of London for commercial 
shipping are a grand sight, not only on account of their great magnitude 
but as giving the vast idea of the great amount of London^s trade and com- 
merce by sea, the chief of which are the London, the Fast and West 
India and the commercial docks. Near here is the great Thames Tunnel 
rtiade considerably lielow London Bridge, as a bridge would be extremely 
inconvenient to shipping there. It was not open all the way through 
when I went to see it. They were working from both sides of' the river 
towards the middle, and four days after I had been in it the water burst in 
the second time since it was begun. The apertures in the bed of the river 
were filled by dropping in bags of sand. The water was then pumped out 
and work resumed. The tunnel is a double one formed by brick and 
cement, with archways communicating with each side. It was completed 
long before I left, and has been lit with gas. Numerous stalls wdth venders 
of fancy articles for sale occupy the middle spaces, blowers of glass toys 
in some fruit stalls and music going on in others; while enormous shipping 



10 . LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 



from foreif^n lands float past over this underground traffic. The engineer 
of this tunne] is the son of Mr. Brunell, who designed the Great Eastern. 
The first sight of her amongst other ships reminded me of an elephant 
amongst other animals. 



CHAPTER III. 

I Spent about two months sight seeing till I got an occupation, the 
first of which was surveying and mapping of building property about Lon- 
don for an architect, a Mr. Voley near London bridge, afterwards street- 
surveying in the south of London for a Mr. Johnson, engineer at Charing 
Cross, to make a map of premises, etc, for a water pipe company, also 
helping him with others for extensions and improvementr of Buckingh.am 
Palace It had been the residence of the Duke ef Buckingham formerly, 
but was extended and enlarged ag a private city residence of the Queen, 
After this I got employment with Hart & Morton, the great church archi- 
thcts and was for some weeks engaged in their office, m.aking working 
drawings for a new church, and the repairs of an old one at Dover which 
I was to go down and .superintend the execution of. When it was nearly 
ready for commencement, I was sent to the Countess of Ecclestone, an 
old maid who was the principal subscriber to the works. She had a pecul- 
iar objection to unmarried persons and though Mr. Morton w^arned me 
not to let her know I was unmarried, she asked me so pointedly that I 
not avoid telling her, but foolishly forgot to tell her that I was engaged 
and hoped to be married soon. The fact was I was taken by surprise, 
not altogether thinking that Mr. Morton's warning was really in earnest 
but rather a joke as he was a very pleasant person. It was a great disap- 
pointment to me when she said she would not have an unmarried person 
to superintend her works as it would have been a lucrative and pleasing 
occupation. 

Dover, being the great channel of communication between France 
and England, some months before this in the spring of 1841, I became ac- 
quainted with a young lady from Cork, named Miss Goldsmith whose 
brother was a medical man in London to whom she came to keep house. 
She had been acquainted with one of my sisters, and my father wrote to me 
saying that he wished me to become acquainted with them as her brother 
might introduce me to some of his acquaintances who might be of service 
to me in my profession, and after my previous disappointment, decided to 
study the medical profession which I did for some years, taking a very 
great interest it but fiinally for various reasons gave up. Shortly after I 
received the superintending of some alterations and repairs of the premises 
of a large leather carrying firm, Mr. C. Jenkins & Sons after which the 
London & Brighton Railway Company required some extension from their 
terminus near London bridge. It nececessitated the removal of Queen 
Elizabeth's Grammar School. My former friend Mr. Foley, architect to 
the governors of the School, gave me the superintendency of the work. 
When this was finished I got an engagement to go and survey some wood- 
land on Lord Darnley's estate near Gravesend in Kent. 

I was greatly surprised one day, by a large flock of pheasants rising 
up in the air in front of me and only going a short distance aside. The 



life's-real romance. 11 



wood-ranger UAd me that his Lordship was a minor, and that there was no 
shooting done on the place which was the cause of the pheasants being 
so re markably tame. 

Passing by the premises one day, I caucht sight of a curius old fash- 
ipned coach. The coach and wheels were gilded all over. I was informed 
that it was a coach of Mary, Queen of Scots and then I remembered that 
the Darnley family were connected with her. 
While in Kent I saw many places of interest and some beautiful scenery. 

There is a canal running from (iravesend to Chatham, running a con- 
siderable way under the cliffs. While here I went to Canterbury, being 
curious to see the place where Thomas A. Becket was murdered. 

On returning to London I got an engagement from Meesrs Harting & 
Morton to superintend the repairs of a church in Essex, at Corringham. 
While doing so I had an attack of fever aud ague, as did also many of the 
working men. Several of the men died on account of their drinking hab- 
its. I returned to London as soon as I was well enough and put myself 
under the care of Dr. Goldsmith. While there, I was nearly poisoned by 
a young lady who was under the Doctor's care because I, at the request of 
the Doctor, had prevented her from, having interviews with a gentleman 
visitor whom the Doctor did not approve of, but fortunately the Doctor 
arrived in time to give me antidotes which checked the effect of the tartar 
emetic that had been given me, but as I was still in delicate health I had 
to refuse an offer from Messrs Harting & Morton and go to Ireland for a 
change of air. When after a few months I had recovered, I got an en- 
gagement with Sir John McNeill, the engineer of Dundalk & Enniskulan 
Railway. 

CHAPTER IV. 

When the railway was finished I went to the South to see my 
relatives at the city of Cork, and to spend some time visiting friends and 
acquaintances. After this I went to Dublin. On my way there, I was 
surprised to meet an old college chum with whom I had become ocquainted 
while studying engineering at King's College, London. He was superin- 
tending a large number of men digging drains in a bog and burning the 
surface when dry, then spreading the clay from the bottom of the drains 
on the surface. Some of the drains were twelve feet deep. He set pota- 
toes in the ground and when the people saw the good yield, he readily 
sold the land at a profit and bought more elsewhere to do the same. 

There was some unusual delay at Cashel which gave me an opportun- 
ity to go out and take a scetch of some old ruins on the great rock by the 
town. While touching up my scetches at the hotel, I observed a tall gen- 
tleman looking over my work. We got into conversation and I found 
that he was an American gentleman from Philadelphia. I asked him if he 
ever went to New York and he replied : O yes quite frequently. I then 
told him I had a cousin there, named James Howard. What ! he said 
with some surprise, he is one of my particular friends, I always stop at 
his place when I go to New York. He gave me his card with an invita- 
taon to go and see him if I ever came to America. He was traveling 
with his son and daughter for their health. His name was J. Jackson, 



12 life's real romance. 

Senator. I found out afterwards that he visited my father at Cork. 

Shortly after my arrival at Dublin, I got a contract for building orna- 
mental houses for the ^irafife, elephant, and camel, in the Zoologicl Gar- 
dens, Phceaix Park. While here I had several building contracts. The 
great potatoe famine occured about this time and I helped to make some 
of the soup-houses for the relief of the poor in Dublin. It was very dis- 
tressing to see the poor wornout creatures from the country sit down on 
the door-steps, some of whom were never able to rise again, yet I have 
known flour merchants who have had quantities of their flour damaged by 
long holding over on anticipation of exorbitant prices which they never 
got, as the Americans sent considerable quantities of provisions for the re- 
lief of the poor. The Government, and also various denominations but 
especially the Society of friends. 

While tiinishing the last named works, I was requested by a barrister 
and his nephew, a clergyman in Bath named Rev. I. Leckie, to make a 
deviation survey for part of a line of railway between Dundalk and Ennis- 
kulen to avoid going through their property, but it was necessary to see 
Mr. Leckie, and as I was anxious to see my friends in London, I went to 
Bath in company with a friend of mine, an architect of Dublin who wished 
to join me in the survey. On seeing Mr. Leckie, we found that the great- 
er poition of the work would have to be paid by a Post Obit Bond, and 
for this reason did not take it. 

Soon after my return, Smith O'Brien's rebellion broke out. After 
settling whatever business I had, I decided to return to London, although 
several engagements were offered to me. Shortly after leaving Dublin, I 
met a steamer from Liverpool with some cavalry and artillery to quell the 
the rebellion. Most of the passengers were going aver to England to pick 
hops in Kent. 

CHAPTER V. 

Some time after my arrival, I got the superintendency of a new church 
at Crompton for a Mr. Guruey, editor of ihe Biri/der's JVe7i'spaper. W^hen 
that was finished I had to go to York to make a svrvey of some property 
there for a Mr. Kothingham. York Ciiv has antiquated appearance, hav- 
ing a great portion of the old circular wall still surrounding it. very high, 
and broad enough for a span of horses and coach to go round on. There 
is a grand old cathedral in excellent condition, and an ancient castle used 
as a court house and town hall. 

On my return to London I wint to Scarborough, on the north-east 
coast of England, called the queen of watering places, because it so much 
resembles the Bay of Naples, having a broad, circular beach, sheltered by 
high, sloping hills. 

From Scarborough I went to Peterborough to ?fee the Cathedral there, 
which is small but very handsome, and then went on to Lincoln which has 
a grander cathedral than that of Peterborough. To the north of the town, 
across the main road are two archways, and a portion of the old city wall 
that was built by the Romans. The gateways are said to be one of the 
best specimens of Roman workmanship over ground in England. There 
are still some large stones in the roadway, said to be the remains of the 



I 



life's real romance. 13 



ancient Roman road. Saw Ely Cathedral on my way from Lincoln. 
The town is a very small one and the bishop, although a bachelor and re- 
ceiving a large income, never contriliuted a shilling to the improvement of 
the cathedr al which was undergoing repairs. I went to Cambridge anJ 
saw the University. Even its kitchen is quite a sight with its large fire- 
place and superb cooking arrangements on a large scale. 

Not long after this I had to attend the assizes in the transfer of some 
railway shares by my friend Mr. Rothingham. When it was over we went 
northwards to his father's estate, called Kingthorpe, near Pickering. It 
was then let lo a wealthy captain in the army. Old Colonel Rothingham 
being a widower he resided in London with his son. While rambling 
around Kingthorpe I came across a band of gypsies encamped in the woods. 
They were the first Gypsies I ever saw and were very numerous but not 
prepossessing in my ojjinion. A few days after, we returned to York a nd 
spent some time there on Mr. Rothingham's estate and then returned to 
London late in the autumn of 1 851. 

A short time after this I got marriecf to Miss Goldsmith and moved 
to Adam's Street Adelphi, near Charing Cross.- While there, I became 
surveyor to the West London Building Society. 

CHAPTER VI. 

In the following summer, the governors of Queen Elizabeth's grammar 
school, decided to rebuild it in another part of the parish. I got the super- 
intending of the erection of it. When the drawings were all finished, and 
the contract given out, I had another journey northwards to Leeds to 
select biiilding stone for the work from the Hare Mill quarries of which 
there were three, I choose the middlestone as being of medium quality and 
good color. One was too hard and brittle and of a poor color, the other was 
too soft and too dark, I brought specimens with me to compare with what 
might be brought to the works in case of imposition. The design consisted 
of a classical and grammar school, three class rooms, two masters' houses, 
a large board room, a library, covered cloisters for play grounds in wet 
weather, a handsome tower and cupola one hundred and ten feet high and 
a handsomely grained open porch approached by a large flight of stone 
steps. The board room floor was composed of inlaid Mosaic flooring. 
The whole was heated by hot air furnaces under ground. It was in 
the Gothic style of the Elizabethian period with a beautifully carved, full 
sized statue of <^ueen Elizabeth, in a handsome niche over the porch. 
The cost of building it was twenty-eight thousand pounds. Besides this I 
had a considerable amount of work to do to houses in the parish which 
constituted the support of the school. There were about eighty of them. 
The work altogether cost somewhat over forty thousands pounds. A short 
time after that I had finished this engagement, I was attacked by the 
Asiatic cholera one night, but having received proper remedies from my 
wife till the doctor arrived I recovered in about a week. The cholera was 
very prevalent in London at this time. Sometime previous to this the 
great Iron Duke's death occurred. W^e had a large party of friends at our 
house, to view it passing, from the front windows and the top of the 
house; it was grand and imposing, and not to be easily forgotten by those 
that saw it. 



j[4. life's real romance. 

As my father has ominitted a few incidents in the last few years, I 
shall mention them as follows: From 1858 to i860, he earned very little 
money at his profession. Whether this was caused through his want of 
energy or dull times is not for me to decide; the reader can judge for him- 
self on reading the sequel. Also that he spent a considerable amount of 
money and valable time in learning photography with Mr. Rothingham Jr. 
And also opened a book store, but devoted more time to studying scientific 
books, than to the business, and in consequence it was a failure. It is, 
however, quite probable that his want of energy and application in follow- 
ing his profession, anci the glowing accounts they had read of America, 
induced my mother to give her consent to leave her numerous' friends, and 
generous and devoted brother, in i860. "In the beginning of 1S57, a 
cousin of my wife, Lieutenant Sanford. asked me to go with him to 
India, as there were fine prospects for a civil engineer in that country. I 
had also an offer from an English engineer, which I fortunately did not 
accept as the Indian mutiny broke out a short time after, and poor Sanford 
was cruelly massacred while going down the river with a remnant of his 
company, in a few boats. He was induced to come ashore by Nana Sahib, 
who told them that if they would deliver their arms and ammunition and 
surrender, they would only be treated as prisoners of war. There being 
no alternative, as the banks were lined with rebel troops and cannon, he 
did so, upon which Nana ordered them all to be shot. Sanford, who 
hid a revolver in an inside pocket, asked to be brought before Nana, as he 
wished to speak to him. When brought to the line of guards that sur- 
rounded Nana, and could go no further, he shot six of them down, and 
presented the revolver the last time at Nana himself, but the cap missed 
and he was seized by the order of Nana and condemned to be sacrificed. 
His nose and ears were cut oft' and he was left under a scorching sun all 
day. Afterward a troop of horsemen were made to ride past him and 
each one had a cut at him with their swords. His father, on reading an 
account of it, was so overcome that he fell fainting from his chair, and 
died a short time after. His wife received a pension, and his two sons — 
Frank and Henry — obtained commissions in the army. In the year 1858 
I received instructions from Mr. Nottingham to advertise and sell his 
property in Sardinia, consisting of a large estate of eighteen thousand 
acres, on which was an olive, a mulberry and vine plantation, a very sub- 
stantial house built of stone, with outoftices and a large collection of 
books, with stock and implements, which I sold for him for ^^3,500. It 
was eleven miles from a seaport, and there was a large tract of swampy 
land between it and there which generated fever and ague, of which his 
brother died, for which reason his father wished him to part with it. In 
1859 I made several designs for villa residences, costing on an average 
;/^i,ioo, which were afterward sold for ;i^'i,400 each. About this time 
Richard Goldsmith, my brother-in-law in Canada, gave me a lot of land 
containing one hundred acres, situated seven miles from a village called 
Aston, which I accepted and decided to emigrate to America. After 
selling our furniture and bidding our friends adieu, v.'e took train for Liv- 
erpool and embarked on board the steamship Bohemia, on which I kept 
a journal during the voyage. 



life's real romance. 15 



CHAPTER VII. 

Embarked on board the board the Bohemia from Liverpool to Quebec 
on the 13th day of August, i860. Capt. G. hauled out of dock at 10:30 a. 
m. Stood to for the mail and late passengers; got under way and fired 
signal gun; wind blowing very strong, rather against us and rough, the 
steamer pitching and rolling; people gradually went below and many w^ere 
sick, including myself and baby, but not Sarah or Tom; had an extremely 
rough night passing the Isle of Man: many very sick; saw the coast of 
Scotland early next morning in the distance; when entering Movile Bay, 
anchored near the mouth of Loch Foyle to wait for the I.ondondeiry and 
Glasgow mail and passengers; several went ashore to Movile and London- 
derry; Movile is a small watering place, and many nice residences are 
along the side of the Bay, also some tine old abbey ruins and a revolving 
light house on the headland to the left going out, which is the last we saw^ 
of the British Isles that night or since; saw some sea gulls on the second 
and third day; wind nearly against us every day, and the ship pitched and 
rolled very much; there are many showers of rain and heavy mists, some 
days very fine in the forenoon and tolerably calm; others with strong breeze 
and sails set to keep the ship steady; people on deck every day, some fine 
afternoons in considerable numbers; passed a schooner on Sunday morn- 
ing about four miles off to the southward; ships are seldom met with in 
this northern latitude and very few birds; after three or four days one tires 
of the sea unless used to it; some gentlemen amused themselves by playing 
at a game like quoits on deck, others walking up and down, sometimes 
with ladies, and others with reading on deck or in the saloon, which is a 
very fine one, \\'ith four tables which accommodate eighteen persons; there 
is a merchant on board returning on his seventy-fifth v.^yage to America; 
every one who makes fifty voyages by this line is allowed to go free ever 
afterward; all the officers are Scotch and well conducted; the captain does 
not keep any one who is not married, or addicted to drinking or swearing; 
there are chess boards for passengers, in which the captain sometimes 
joins, but he evidently discourages card playing and drinking; he is a very 
gentlemanly and Christian minded man, and seemed to take pleasure in 
having every one comfortable and happy; wOien not on duty, he often 
stops and talks to the passengers, entering into all their queries in quite a 
.fatherly manner; Wednesday, the 5th of September, was a most lovely 
day; in the afternoon the sky was extremely clear and the air light and 
cheerful; the sun went down in a horizon tinted with such lovely and 
beautiful colors as are very rarely, if ever, seen in England, but may be 
seen in the south of Europe; in the evening some of the young men re- 
mained on deck for some time to enjoy what they called a Canadian sky 
and singing: 

" Oh. come to the West, 

Oh, come there with me, 
"lis the land I love best, 

'Tis the land of the free," etc. 

Even when the sun had gone down in this northern latitude at sea, 



16 life's real romanxe. 



forty-three degrees north, the cold was quite bearable, though the wind 
was against us for days, and the ship's s{)eed was ten knots an hour against 
it, steering northwest by north, daily expecting to meet ice floes coining 
from the north; some young men posted a notice in the cabin 10:30 o'clock 
requiring the gentlemen to muster on deck to form a rifle corps, but it was 
the time for morning prayers and singing, which caused ii to be a failure; 
on Friday, the 6th, I saw five whales to the north t)lowing and spouting 
at about two miles distant; birds begin to be more numerous and varied as 
we get near the north of Newfoundland, nearing Bellisle Straits; for several 
hours we were enveloped in a dense fog, and the steam whistle kept con- 
stantly sounding to warn oft' any ships that might come in our way; hope 
to see the first land to-night; saw an enormous iceberg about three miles 
off estimated at one-third of a mile long, about one hundred and twenty 
feet high and seven times as much under water; the deck was crowded 
with spectators, spying through all sorts of instruments, specks, spy 
glasses, opera and long short telescopes, at our frosty-faced enemy; it was 
quite cheering to see the life and mirth in every one's face at dinner that 
day, evidently from the consciousness of having got into smooth water and 
the hope of seeing land; as the fog has again returned, we can only go at 
half speed, and if a breeze does not arise this evening to clear oft" the fog, 
we will have to keep in the offing till morning, as our cautious captain 
will not venture through the strait in a fog by night; he says we have 
passed the ocean icebergs from the north, but may meet smne small ones 
in the lower part of the strait; both water and ship are ntw so motionless 
that one would think we were in a lake or river going at h.ilf speed; the 
8th of September had a clear calm night, but did not sight Belisle light[till 
3 a. m. ; from 5 am. gentlemen were constantly running upon deck to 
get a glimpse of land; the Belisle rose high and bold, then, bit by bit, the 
Newfoundland coast like little islands, and at times long, low portions of 
the island back of the creeks and bays; as we gradually go in, the breeze 
freshened very much, and the sailors had to leave oft" washing the decks to 
attend to the sails, while a continued heavy shower of rain finished their 
deck work; although we keep near the Newfoundland shore, we can see 
bits of Labrador in the far distance; morning prayers over with a better 
attendance than usual and a more apparent response to the thanksgiving 
for the prosperous voyage: the Labrador coast is now coming in full view 
as far as the eye can see, and the Newfoundland, also, but not quite so 
high or distant, Labrador coast rising more, some parts bold and rugged, 
some hilly and sloping — all wild and uncultivated scrub land as yet: a 
brigantine nowin sight in full sail going out to sea between us and the 
Newfoundland coast; a growing change in the passengers — some waiting, 
some looking over the great Canadian chart to find their homes; some 
fishing stations and a light house on the Labrador coast are in view, and 
the land getting very distant, a long range of vertical cliff-like granite, oc- 
casional creeks, in some of which are large masses of ice which look like 
large buildings in the distance ; near it and far liehind are very high 
mountains, whose blue tops look »vell over the rugged coast line; a New- 
foundland fishing lugger (sixty tons) passes close by making for land under 
close reefed sails; the sea is very rough and sends nearly all below and 
comes over us fore and aft; here can be seen the wonderful power of steam 
given Id man to overcome the two mighty elements of wind and water. 



LIFE S RF.AI. ROMAXC 17 

The Sim going down in the heautiful red horizon with clear, ethcral blue 
ab>ve. Very strong wind still, the rigginp; rattling in it and so cold that 
we have to leave the decks, while in the saloon some of the glassware in 
the pendant shelves above the tables vrere thrown out with the force of the 
pitching and the vibration of the iron ship when the ereat screw, sixteen 
feet in diameter, gets out of the water. Sunday awoke in smooth water 
in the Gulf of St. Lawrence and I felt, when I came on deck for my 
morning walk and beheld the placid, lake-like sea, the lovely clear sky 
^■ith the rising sun in all its beauty, that I would willingly travel the 
?ame distance over again to behold it. At every service 'held in the 
saloon the crew anrl steerage passengers were brought in; the psalms, 
hyms and sermon were always appropriate to the occasion, and were evi- 
dently felt and responded to by all — indeed, the general harmony that ex- 
ists between the ditiereni clergymen and passengers at mornino: and even- 
irjg prayer, as well as on Sundays, might lead one to think that we were 
allof one denomination, if not of one family, and the great familiarit}' 
that exists among the meeting of professions, business men and tradesmen 
is not less remarkable, but does not lead to that utter republicanism 
which destroys individual respect for each other. It is an easy familiarity 
peculiar to the Canadians and superior to what we hear of a large portion 
of the people of the United Slates— the latter vulgar and reckle.ss, the 
former friei.dly and respectful. While at our lunch news came that a 
wreck was in sight. Immediately the decks were crowded and glasses 
pointed toward her. She proved to be a barque on her beam -ends about 
three miles oft' on a sand bank opposite the ocean end of Anticosta. 
They had a flag of distress flying, and our captain sent six men and the 
Chief mate in a boat with a cask of water and a compass, but they did not 
need them, having only left two days before on her voyage to Liverpool 
with a cargo of timber. They did not see the bank, so they say, but the 
case is suspicious, as the ship is eighteen years old and insured, and was in 
only 1 3 feet of water, while it draws eighteen. After tea bad services again 
Very solemn and impressive and suitable to the occassion. I think we 
will all long remember our trip with much pleasure. ^Ye made many nice 
acquaintances, the most of them going into the interior. The following is 
the number of miles made each day: Thursday, two hundred miles; Fri- 
day, ©ne hundred and fifty; Saturday, two hundred and thirty-four; Sun- 
day, two hundred and thirty-tive; Monday, two hundred and 'forty; Tues- 
day, two hundred and thirty-five; Wednesday, two hundred and forty-six; 
Thursday, two hundred and thirty-two; Friday, two hundred and twenty- 
three; Saturday, two hundred and ten: total, two thousand one hundred 
^nd ninety-five mile? in ten days. When nearing land the first novelty 
that struck us was the neat wooden houses whitewashed, and woodland's 
with patches of land cleared here and there, the trees of which were re- 
markably tall, compared to the old country, and not so heavy headed in 
consequence of growing so close together. On arriving opposite Farther 
Point in the Gulf St. Lawrence, they stopped to land the mails and tele- 
graph to Montreal the arrival of the steamer. Some of the passenger.*; 
.sent messages ot the telegraph office to be sent to their friends. W^e also 
.«;ent one to my brother-in-law, Dr. Goldsmith, who afterwards met us at 
Aston Station. On nearing Quebec, all was bustle and excitement pre- 
paring for landing at Peint Levi, opposite Quebec. While our baggage 



Ig life's rral romanxk. 



was beirg exanair.ed, I noticed one of the passenger? take the paper off 
onr boxes and put them on his own to ir.ake it appear that his boxes had 
been passed, (he was a commercial traveler) which aroused my suspicion, 
but I said nothing for fear of being delayed as witness. In crossing to the 
train we were surprised to see that priests are allowed here to wear their 
Jong black robes the same as on the continent. I v^as rather disappointed 
in not being able to see something of Quebec and its celebrated fortress, 
but had a good view of the citadel in leaving in the train. On our arrival 
that evening at Aston, we found my brother-in-law waiting for us at the 
station. We went to Blanchard's hotel, where we stayed till next mornr 
ing, and left early with a team of horses and wagon with all our trnnks and 
boxes, by a road leading in a southeasterly direction to Richford, six- 
miles from Aston on a fairly passable road, but not to be compared to the 
roads of England. The appearance of this part of the country was a 
miserable contrast to the scenery in the old country. The trees were 
mostly of the fir species and of a very inferior growth, the stumps ot the 
larger ones that had been cut down gave the place an unsightly appearance. 
Close to Aston the land is flat and sandy, further on rugged and rocky, 
near Richford more loamy and cleaner. Richford is situated on a small 
river in a valley at the foot of a steep hill. Went over this hill in a north- 
easterly direction to East Hastings and crossed a small stream about a mile 
and a half from Richford. After {massing through about a mile of level 
country, we ascended another hill called McDerraot's and at the end of 
about another mile, turned northwardsthrough a bush road, lined on either 
side with a dense forest. It was the roughest road I ever traveled, with 
stones and stumps, roots and mud holes, two of which were very long with 
water about a foot and a half deep. When about three quarters through 
this road the wagon broke down. My brother-in-law took the horses and 
went on to his brother's to get another. After waiting some time we de- 
cided to walk on. My wife carried Arthur and I Tom. We had just 
emerged from the woods when wc met a very small woman with a peculiar 
accent, named Mrs. Cutting. She asked us to come in and rest, as her 
house was close by the main road. While talking to her my brother-in-law 
arrived with another wagon and one of his nephews named Richard. 
They went on for the boxes and we weni into the house and waited till 
they returned and then went on to his brother Herbert's house. He had 
five sons and one daughter at home, also another son in Montreal, studying 
medicine with his uncle. After sundry greetings and a dinner we took a 
walk to see the place. The weather was delightfully .^ine at that time and 
we were much impressed with the appearance of the climate, so much 
dryer and clearer than in the old country. In other respects we were 
terribly disappointed Vv'ith the appearance of this part of thi country, so 
rugged and \inlike farming land. My brother-in-law's house was what 
they call here a shanty, made of round logs notched into each other at the 
four corners. The spaces between the logs were filled with pieces of wood 
and moss and plastered over with mortar. The roof was of plain rafters 
with ribs crossways about a foot and a half apart, covered with long, 
narrow pieces of wood (called long shingles) about three feet long, made 
of spruce. There are no divisions in his house except one short piece 
from the front door to the stove. The flooring was composed of loose 
boards, some of which were broken. There was but one deal table and g 



life's real romaJjcr. 19 

few wooden chairs, and^only a loft up stairs reached by a ladder. Next 
morning my brother-in-law Richard returned to Montreal. My first exper- 
ience at farming was cutting wheat with a reaping hook, and before long 
I cut one of my fingers. My next was hoeing out potatoes. After that I 
began to make preparations for building a house on my lot. I hired four 
men living close by, Parker, Cutting, Brodeur and Disselt, at one dollar a 
day, and twenty-five cents extra to Cutting and Parker, who could use a 
broad axe to square logs, but as the season was far advanced and the snow 
began to fall and the logs were unusually large and heavy the men could 
not easily lift the upper ones, so I sent to Montreal for a strong rope and in 
the meantime made a block and windlass and triangle, which I fixed inside 
the house and by that means got up all the logs ready for roofing. The 
house was thirty-one by twenty two feet. In the meantime my wife went 
to Montreal. The winder coming on, I had to leave the roofing until 
spring and my wife returned after seveaal weeks in Montreal. The snow 
was remarkably deep that winter, making it a dull life for us, but I had a 
little carpentery work in the house and at the stable of my brother-in-law. 
In the spring I began roofing my own house. In the month of March, 
the weather being rather severe I got an attack of pleurisy; by using proper 
remedies I became well in a few days. Next day Herbert and his sons 
Joseph and Richard, went to the Sixth range, on the other side of Aston 
village, where he ownes another larm which goes by the name of The Lot 
on the Track and contains two hundred acres. After breakfast, while Mrs. 
G. was milking the cows, the roof of the stable fell down with the weight 
of the snow and as the day was warm repaired it, with my nephew Jerrold. 
I succeeded in having my house finished by the middle of April, and muved 
into it in the beginning of May. I went to Montreal to buy a horse and 
was fortunate in getting a good one for forty dollars, with a single set of 
harness. When returning in the train I met a Mr. Carmichael with his 
wife and family, who were coming out to live on a farm of two hundred 
acres, adjoining mine on the west side. When we arrived at Aston they 
asked me to wait for them to show them the way through the bush, to 
which I consented. They had a horse and cart, a cow and a couple of 
calves, fowls, furniture, crockery ware, and five boys and a girl. It 
took them considerable tim.e to get ready. When they were, we went to 
Richford. It was late in the day when we got there and as they had so 
many animals we could not get through the bush before dark. I asked 
them to leave the animals at McNeill's till next day, but they did not 
like to do so. By the time we got into the woods it was dark and the 
eldest boy, who was driving the cart partially upset it, over a stump. It 
had hardly been righted when he completely upset it breaking most of the 
crockery. After this I drove the cart myself and the boy rode m.y horse. 
While going on in the darkness, an owl began hooting, which so frightened 
old Carmichael that he threw himself on the grouod, bemoaning the sad 
fate of his being brought in the wild wood to be devoured by the savage 
beasts that were in it. His wife pacified him and we continued the 
journey. We had great difficulty in crossing several pools swollen by the 
late rains, some of which were over two feet deep. When we got as far 
as Herbert's house old Carm.ichael would go no further, so I left them 
there and went across the fields to my own house, wei and fatigued, it be- 
ing nearly two o'clock in the morning. Next morning Carmichael came 



^■0 life's REAr. romaSck.. 



lo me beeging lo be accomodated till they repaired an old shanty that 
had been buitt on their land by a French squatter. It was seven weeks 
before they left my place. While there Mr. C, and his son planted some 
potatoes that I lent them, which I got as a bargain from Mr. Cutting, 
as he was going to Dudley, lo live close to his brother-in-law, Mr. Jim 
Dayton, who has a very fine farm in a good state of cultivation. My own 
crop consisted of oats, wheat and peas. I sowed a tolerable quantity of 
first. l»ut not so much of the others as there was only about three acres 
of land on the lot fit for the plough. It was here I handled a plough for 
the the first time, with Sim Parker, and I did not find it as difficult, as I 
had expected, as the land was free from stones. After 
the crop was in, we began to finish clearing the land 
that had been partially cleared, but was covered with trees and logs here 
and there that had been cut down by a Mr. Brodeur, who had "squatted" 
on the lot before my arrival, which means settling on land without pur- 
chasing or making any arrangements with the owner. 

CHAPTER VIII. 

There were very lively times in those days, what with the arrival of 
new settlers, "bees'" for putting i:p houses, clearing land, etc., and husk- 
ing parties, in which Jim Parker always took the lead. He is a singular 
character, resembling Robin Hood on a small scale. He is most of the 
time in the woods stealing timber from off the land of absentees, and 
sometimes has the audacity to do so from lots that are occupied by their 
owners. He is, however, an obliging neighbor and a kind-hearted man, 
and gives a grt-at deal of employment to his poorer neighbors, sometimes 
employing as much as twenty-five men with their horses in getting <>ut 
large pine timber for ships' masts, some of which are as much as eighty 
feet long; also crooked tamarac timber for ships' knees, and ash oars. The 
lamarac tree is similar to the larch in the old country; these with the mak- 
ing of salts from hard wood ashes, were the chief means the inhabitants 
had for making money. They also occasionally peeled some hendock 
bark, for which they received $1,50 a cord delivered at Mr. Sharp's tan- 
nery at Richford, where all the settlers on the Third and Fourth range 
had to do their trading, as there was only a foot path through the woods 
lo Aston village westerly, part of the way through the middle of the lots 
on the Fourth range, then in a north-westerly direction for the rest of the 
way. It lay across sv.amps in some places and in the springtime was 
almost impassable. Aston was then a stirring place, chiefly caused by 
the copper mine discovered sometime before our arrival and then in full 
work, which employed about 400 men and 200 women. This increase 
in population caused great activity in building houses for workmen, stores 
and private dwellings. Two private residences were very fine buildings, 
built by Messrs. Mofht and Christie, who received many thousands of 
dollars for their interests in the mines that were discovered by Mr. Moffit 
on Mr. Christie's property. These two gentlemen and a Mr. Lyttleton 
acquired a great amount of village property and cut a great dash for sev- 
eral years. One of these was a sort of Beau Brummell and was so fastidi- 
eus that when his carriage and four were brought out he would pass his 



LIFE'S ^T.AL ROMAXCE. 



white kicl glove over iheir backs and if it was the least soiled sent ihein 
back to the stnbles to be groomed. About this time I became acquainted 
with an Irish settler living on the Fifth range of St. Henrie d' Aston. The 
family consisted of two sons, a nephew and five daughters. They had 
been working on a railway in upper Canada and had settled on a lot be- 
longing to the British-American Land Company, with only half a dollar in 
money, afier having bought a few weeks' provisions. The lot had no 
clearance on it when they hrst arrived. They began by chopping down 
and burning all the timber on a piece of land and for ready money they 
tnade black salts, which they had to carry on their backs to the village of 
Dildley, six miles off, and sold it to a small storekeeper named Perodeau, 
which was afterwards bleached in an oven to make white potash. For the 
first year they lived on potatoes, pork and milk and a little bread, bought 
occasionally with part of the money made from salts. For several years 
the work progressed slowly on mv place on account of my being utterly 
unaccustomed to backwoods life and manual labor. At this time there 
was an application made to the Ciovernment to get the concession lines 
surveyed, in order that a road might be made along it to the road leading 
from Aston to Richford. At the same time the side lines were altered 
also. They were moved about one acre eastward and Mr. Carmichael paid 
for the improvement he got on my side, but Goldsmith was not^ satisfied 
with the valuator's decision on his side, which was six dollars. Ultimately 
1 gave them a cooking stove worth ten dollars for it. The first survey of 
ihe lines had been incorrect, which was the cause of the delay in making 
the road; each land proprietor had to make that part of road opposite his 
lot. The road was made thirty-six feet between the fences, twenty-lour 
feet for the road, three feet for each ditch and three for the bank between 
the ditch and the fence; each proprietor had to make half the breadth op- 
posite his lot. There were many quarrels between Carmichael, Gold- 
smith and myself, chiefly caused through want of fences and cattle tres- 
passing on each other's crops. One of the first quarrels was about Car- 
michael's cattle going into Goldsmith's oats. The G.'s shut up the cattle 
and demanded compensation. Mrs. C. and her hired man went an<l de- 
manded her cattle." Mrs. G. put her back to the stable door and refused 
to give up the cattle till the damages were- paid. Mrs. C. objected be- 
cause the cattle were not shut up in a pound. After considerable alterca- 
tion Mrs. C. threatened to shoot Mrs. G. with an old horse-pistol she had 
in her hand. Mrs. C".. sent Jonathan, her son, forme. After I arrived I 
succeeded in pacifying Mrs. C, who was under the influence of stimulants. 
Her husband afterwards came and paid the damages. Not long after 
the G.'s had a quarrel with Jim Parker for shooting their horses with salt 
when they trespassed on his'land. I also had several differences with the 
G.'s and C.'s about our cattle, after which I decided to have the lines run 
between us. Mr. C, of Montreal, v.ho owns the lot on which he lets his 
father, step-mother and step-brothers live, was satisfied that I should run 
the line between. The G.'s, however, would not consent to my running 
it, so we were obliged to gel a surveyor with a license. Mr. C treats his 
father and step-brcthers in a very liberal manner, having built for them a 
new house and barn and allows his father an annuity. About this time 
we expected to have more protestant neighbors, as my brother-in-law in 
Iviontreal sold three more lots, No. 2S to Mr. Ddvid Wells and the east 



;^2 life's real ROMA^'C:E. 



half of thirty-three to Mr. Lane, and the west half to Mr, Sherman. The 
latter settled on his land. The family consisted of Mrs. Sherman, her 
father and mother and one daughter, named Teresa. He paid six hun-- 
dred dollars for his half of one hundred acres and stayed at my Herbert's 
house till he had a house built for himself and a few acres of land cleared. 
Shortly after his wife and daughter came from Montreal, much to the 
satisfaction of my wife, who would now have society of a more agreeable 
character. Having no horse when he first came he sowed his oats in a 
very primitive manner, by means of a crooked stick which he dragged 
after him forming little furrows into which his wife dropped the oats and 
his daughter followed covering them with a hoe; his daughter also helped 
him in burning brushwood back of their house, which was exemplifying 
with a vengeance the theory of a friend of mine, Mr. Meredith, that of 
*'from the wash-tub to the piano," as in the evenings, after a hard day's 
vyork. she would play a few tunes on the piano. His house, although 
built of logs and of a rude appearance outside, was very tastefully ar- 
ranged inside. It had three bed rooms, a dining room and a parlor. The 
parlor was nicely furnished, floors carpeted, walls papered, and several 
good oil paintings, water colors and pencil drawings, done by himself, on 
the walls. 

About this time the municipality became divided into three: The 
village constituting one, and the rural portion two — St. Henry d' Aston 
and St. Marie, the former our parish. 

Also, at the same time, Mr. Perodeau, of Dudley, attempted to 
divide a portion of our township and join it to Dudley, and succeeded 
after great opposition. By this means he strengthened the French Cana- 
dian and Catholic votes in Dudley, of which he was a prosperous 
inhabitant, and which would aid his prospects and aims. Nine miles of 
country in length and seven in width was added to Dudley, which almost 
equalized the two hostile parties in that township. 

After the subdivision of the municipality Mr. Meredith, superinten- 
dent of the Aston copper mines, and a leading person in church and school 
affairs, came out to instruct us in the organization of a dissentient school, 
and a meeting was called and an election held, at which Mr. Goldsmith, 
Mr. Sherman and Mr. Cutting were duly elected as first trustees, with 
myself as secretary and treasurer, and the following document was sent 
out to the School Comissioners: 

"To the Chairman or President o! the School Commissioners for the 
Municipality of Henri d'Aston in the Connty of Bradford: Whereas, 
the school act at present in force in this province empowers the inhabitants 
and landholders of any municipality professing a religious faith different 
from thai of the majority of the inhabitants of any such municipality to 
establish dissentient schools and name Irusieee for the management there- 
of in case the regulations and arrangements made by said School Com- 
sioners for the conduct of any school should not be agreeable to such 
inhabitants so dissentient; and, whereas, the regulations and arrange- 
ments made by the School Commissioners within the municipality of St, 
Henri d' Aston are not agreeable to us, the undersigned inhabitants and 
land owners within the above mentioned municipality professing the 
Protestant faith, which differs from the faith of the majority of said 
municipality who are Catholics, now, therefore, we, the undersigned 



life's real romanxe. 23 



inhabitans and landbolder> of said municipality of Henri d' Aston; so dis- 
sentient as aforesaid, hereby collectively sie:nify to you this, our dissent, 
in writing, from the regulations and arrangements made by the Scnool 
Commissioners of the said school municipality for the conduct of the 
schools within the same, and that the same is not agreeable to us, ana 
herewith is given in the names of the three trustees chosen by us tn put; 
suance of the requirements of said act." v r 

Shortly afterward the trustees appointed my wife as school teacher of 
tb- new school, which was to be held in my house until a suitable school 
house was built. She had been teaching a private school, tree to all the 
Canadian children that wished to attend, before this The French 
Canadian children now discontinued coming, as a school of their own had 
been started. . . . 

The municipal affairs at this time were in a ruinous condition, and i 
ioined several others in sending the following petition to His Excellency, 
the Right Honorable Charles Hanly, Viscount Monek, Baron Monek 
and Governor General of British North America: 

•*The petition of the undersigned proprietors and inhabitants of the 
municipality of Henri d' Aston, in the county of Bradford, humbly 
snoweth: That our municipal affairs have been for many years grossly 
mismanaged, through unqualified and incompetent persons getting into ihe 
Councils of said municipality; so much so, that this township is now, and 
has been for some time, heavily encumbered with debts, notwithstanding 
that we have been paying for many years a much heavier tax to said 
Council than any of the adjoining townships, which tax, if n had been 
properly appropriated, might have considerably reduced our liabilities by 
this time instead of their having become a most greivious burden to all 
and almost ruinous to many of our poorer inhabitants. 

"That such incumbrances lead, fiistly, to lawsuits consequent on the 
acts of said unqualified and incompetent Councillors; secondly, to loss of 
public funds in repurchasing lands illegally sold by orders of said Coun- 
cillors and by the misconduct of their secretary; thirdly, to borrowing 
money at high rates of interest to meet immediate demands, in conse- 
quence of the refusal of many persons to pav taxes, on the ground of the 
Council being illegally constituted— that some of tiie first members of this 
Council and their secrerary are particularly reprehensible in these respects, 
so much so that their transactions were the cause of heavy lawsuits 
against them and repeated public meetings to investigate their accounts 
and transactions generally, which ultimately resulted in the compulsory 
retirement of some of their members, the dismissal of their secretary and 
the appointment of others more competent. .^ , . 

"That there has been of late years very great difficulty in getting any 
competent persons elected Councillors of this municipality owing to the 
intrigues of crafty persons who, not having much real or tangible interest in 
the township, seek to get in ignorant and incompetent men of no good 
repute as Councillors, who easilv become their dupes and fools, working, 
out their unlawful schemes— such as partiality in the disposaUnd execu- 
tion of the public works; and some of the first members of tne Council, 
with the former secretary, are persons of this description, whom it is most 
desirable for the public good to keep out of the future Council. 

"That this Council neglected to have their valuation roll completed 



24 life's real romance. 

within the period, and in the manner, provided within the -statute of the 
municipal act; whereby, no tax could be collected during; that year, which 
made it doubtful to us whether an election of Councillors would be legaJl or 
not. 

"Under such circumstances some of the former Councillors, together 
with their former Secretary, seem" anxious to get in'o the new Council 
the snme or nearly the same persons who were in }>efore by means of 
an application to Your Excellency, through the Mayor of this Council, Mr. 
J. Daigle, at the instigation of the former dismissed Secretary, • E. 
Fradette, a relative o( his, whom we consider the main cause of the TTsis- 
management of our Council affairs by his influence over the majority of 

the fojmer Council, " [Manuscript missing.] 

I now have to begin a painful task— that is, to give a truthful picture 
of my life and those ajssociated with it. I intend to try and have the 
picture lifelike and keep nothing back from the public except oaths and 
language that would only fill them with disgust. My earlier days was 
blessed with the loving instruction of a dev>ned mother, to whom I owre 
whatever education I possess. She truly was "a bright snd shining light'' 
to the surrounding darkness, and instructed all the English children .and 
many of the French children in all the elementary branches ot an Eng- 
lish education, besides teaching in a Sunday school regularly every Sun- 
day. It was, however, her beautiful life of gentleness and charity that 
touched even the hardest hearts and won the admiration nnd respect of 
even the most ignorant and worthless of settlers, and truly she was a 
ministering angel to all that were sick for many miles around our place. 
Her cheerful words of comfort and the many little delicacies she gave 
them brought much happiness to many a sick bed. I have often seen 
rough men instantly stop their coarse, rough jokes and conversation when 
she entered the room and commence on some other subject, which truly 
showed the respect they held for her; yet I have seen these men laugh 
and joke while passing the night in a rooom with a dead friend. She 
always exerted a pure and elevating influence wherever she went. I am 
fully convinced that many times her heart longed for the society of refined 
and cultivated people, to which she had been accustomed in her younger 
days: but she piously became resigned lo the hardships and privations of 
backwoods life because she did not have the means to live in the society 
of her younger days, for her income was only four hundred dollars a 
year, which she received from her brother in London, for v\hom she had 
kept house eleven years before she was married. With this small income 
she was merely able to live comfortably and keep one servant. Every 
three months she went to Montreal to receive it, and generally spent a week 
in visiting her friends there. When there, she attended a meeting of the 
Plymouth Brethren, to which sect she belonged; but she had broad and 
iihersl views of religion. la her younger days she was a member of the 
Church of England. 

CHAPTER IX. 

When fifteen years of age my brother and I rented the farm from my 
tather and had complete management of it. We were very enthusiastic 



life's real romancf. 25 



and worked it energetically, making great improvements and rinished 
covering the barn that had remained in an unfinished state nine years, 
cleared more land, made sugar and sold bark and wood, and often told 
our dear mother that we would in a few years i>rovide her a home worthy 
of her, at which she would, with a loving smile, tell us her first wish 
was that we should become good and Christian men, and that if we 
became that "all things else would be added unto us. " My father, how- 
ever, did not like our practical farming and took the management from us 
to resume his theoretical system, which made us greatly indignant; for he 
often spent as much as fifty dollars in pulling out stumps and stones from 
an acre of land, which money was advanced by our mother. We thought 
this was not right; our policy was to make the farm pay for its own 
improvements, and assured him that land was so cheap in America that it 
was folly to spend more than a certain amount in reclaiming a piece of 
land. He, however, would not be convinced, and our opinions greatly 
clashed together, and we would often have disputes when he would have 
us work with him for over a day in pulling up a single stump. We told 
him the right wa> was to leave time and exposure to such work, and to 
clear more land would be far more useful and practicable. It, however, 
only required a sad, reproving look from our mother to bring us into sub- 
mission. Often in the evening Tom and I n\ ould have grave consultations 
in our own room as regards our future, as to w hat we were going to do 
in life, thinking it was high time to begin to think for ourselves, as cer- 
tainly the home farm did not present very encouraging prospects of our 
being able to make a comfortable home out of it, and certainly it could 
never become remunerative under the system our father operated it. My 
brother Tom finally decided that farming was unsuitable for him, as one 
of his legs was paralyzed, when three years of age, through his nurse 
leaving him exposed to a thunder storm in a park in London. He, there- 
fore, with my father's consent, studied telegraphy at Aston with a Miss 
Frazer, who was operator there, for which he paid the small tuition of 
fifteen dollars. He learned telegraphy in the early part of the winter of 
1876. During this time I wrote to both my uncles and told them I could 
not possibly waste the best part of my life on the home farm, which, from 
the way it was managed, was utterly unremuneraiive. A short time 
after my Uncle Richard, of Montreal, wrote to me saying he would sell 
to me and my brother 400 acres of land, known as thirty-four and thirty- 
five, situated a mile and a half from the homestead. This he thought 
would be better than for us to leave our mother alone. After due considera- 
tion my brother and I decided to buy the two lots from my uncle, paying 
him the price he asked, $1,200 in four years, at interest. I now give a 
short scrap of a journal I kept at that time: 

April 1st. — Repaired roof of old shanty Uncle Richard built on the 
lots, when he came from Montreal to live on them for his health. Also 
cui brush. 

May 1st. — Gave F. Buck three acres of land to clear at nine dollars 
an acre. 

May 2d. — Tom and I commence logging. 

May 6th. — Herbert Carmichael changed a day with mc at logging. 

May 7th. — Sunday Jonathan G. and Clifford C, came to see us, It 
was raining hard. They staycii to dinner. 

4 



26 life's real romance. 

May 8th. — I went to Doherty's and bought ten bushels of oats. Also 
called in at Meredith's on my way. 

May 9th. — Received a letter from Uncle Richard saying that he had 
sent us a present of a mowing machine and horse-rake. 

May iith. — Went to Aston for the mowing machine, and received an 
invitation to a party at the Rev. L. C. Willoughby's. 

May I2th.--Went to the evening party; had a splendid time; came 
home at 5 o'clock in the morning and broke the spring of buggy on the 
bad road. 

May 13th.— Went to Aston and had the buggy repaired. 

May 14th — Cut brush. 

Father became sick. We telegraphed for Uncle Richard. Under 
his and Dr. Bacon's treatment he became well in a few weeks. Ever 
after his sickness our dear mother has been ailing, and went to Montreal 
for treatment, where she stayed somewhat over two months. During this 
time Tom and I were very busy in working father's farm for him and 
our own. We cut down all the brush that had grown up in the clearance 
Cousin Richard made while he was on the lot, also cleared an acre of 
land ourselves, and then commenced peeling hemlock bark to sell this 
winter to enable us to pay our installment on the land this winter. The 
peeling season commenced at the end of May and beginning of June and 
ends the last of July, or, at fatheresl, some times continued to the mid- 
dle of August; The process of peeling is as follows: 

First clear the small brushwood from around the toot of the tree, for 
men are often .cut by their axes striking a small twig and glancing off and 
striking their feet; then the axeman eyes the tree and calculates in which 
direction it leans most. His object is to fall the tree on some other logs 
to keep it from the ground, so that all the bark can be peeled from off it. 
After the tree is fallen one axeman slits the^ bark and notches around it 
every four feet. The peeler peels it from of? the trunk and stands it up, 
which makes the bark of a better quality than if the white surface was 
left exposed to the wind and weather. Another axeman cuts the branches 
off and gives a slight cut where every branch was cut off", which enables 
the bark to come off easier around where the branches were and without 
breaking. Two to three days of fine weather is sufticient to dry the bark. 
It is now carried into heaps and piled in cord and half cord piles with 
the rough side up and stakes on either side of the pile. 

While we were thus busily engaged, we received a letter from my 
uncle, saying our mother was not much better and was gomg to return 
shortly. I was much shocked at her pale appearance on her return, but 
even then we apprehended nothing serious, nor did my Uncle Richard, 
ol Montreal. It was several weeks after this, while she was sitting in 
an easy chair and I was arranging some flowers on the table, that I fully 
realized the loss I was about to suffer. I canno* tell you the anguish 
that filled my heart when she said to me: 

"Arthur, my boy, I have not long to live. Promise me now, my 
dear son, that you will always try to be good and noble and use the Bible 
as a Might to your feet and a lamp to your path.' " 

I threw myself on my knees beside her and sobbed aloud: "Oh, God ! 
spare the life of my mother. Let me not now lose her to whom I owe 
such an eternal debt of gratitude. Spare her to me at least for a few 



life's real romance. 27 

years longer, that I may have the pleasure of being her comforter and 
support." 

She consoled me. ar.d said: "My dear Arthur you need never up- 
braid yourself as being an undutiful son, for you have always been a good 
and dutiful son to me." 

But, at times like this, one's conscience is very tender, and mine 
recalled many childish acts of disobedience for which my mother tenderly 
forgave me. I need not tell the reader of the gloom and sorrow that 
pervaded our home for the week before she died and for a long time after- 
ward. It was on Sunday afternoon at 3 o'cloc k that she died, on the 
20th of August. I lost the best and truest friend I ever had, or expect 
to have. My Uncle Richard arrived from Montreal, and the crowd of 
French Canadians that attended her funeral, as well as of most of the 
settlers for miles around, was a touching tribute of respect they had for 
her. 

1 shall now give a few letters that I have collected from my mother's 
friends, and am sorry that most of them have been lost, or mislaid, and 
many are illegible, some of which date back as far as 1830. 

CHAPTER X. 

Fifty-nine Strada, Carlo Alberto Casa Genoa, Italy, 1857. 
My Dearest Sarah: — I hope you will not think me negligent in not 
having answered your answer to mine ere this, but I have been so much 
occupied in and out of the house; however, I am determined not to let 
another blessed day pass, without wishing you and Jonathan every happi- 
ness of the season. May this year he in every way prosperous to you. I 
often wish myself in your book store, as I always had a penchant for selling. 
Augustus admires your independent spirit, and begs to be kindly remember- 
ed to you. We continue, thank God, to be most comfortable and peacable. 
Augustus is a kind, good creature, and a highly moral man, and is greatly 
respected and liked by all here. We have much, my dear Sarah to be 
thankful for, the Almighty has been very merciful to us, in taking from us 
one. He has sent us another kind friend, and I trust he may be long spared 
to us. He was absent, to and fro about a fortnight, forty miles, at a 
place called Chiavary, where he was sent for to attend the Countess 
Dunaghmore, an Irish family. She was on her route to Rome, with her 
three daughters. She unfortunately died, her body was brought here to 
be buried. It was very distressing to die in a foreign land. Some other 
families here have been most kind to us, and whenever wego out, \\e have 
a carriage to take us to and from any soriee we are invited to, of course 
free of expense, as you must well know we could not aftbrd it ourselves. 
We have been at very heavy expense lately with respect to our things, 
seeing one of the smallest of the cases of p(jor Jack, fell or rather was 
thrown into the sea, it slipped as they were hoisting it in the boat. Augus- 
tus tells us that the books are soaked, and will of course be marked. A 
great many of the glass things have been smashed, you may judge of my 
horror, my poor etagere I fear will look very bare, we are to get them on 
Monday. Besides all these damages we will have eight poundsduiy to pay 
on all the freight from London, and the total duty on the furniture, books. 



2S life's real romance. 

music and trinkets, will amount to fifteen pounds. So that we must now 
look to every shilling. We have every comfort, a capital table, 
beautiful fire, two servants, and nothing earthly to do, not even my hair 
to Jress, as the women do it. We may be as ill as we like, for we have 
attendance and physic gratis. I do wish, my dear cousin, that I could 
share my comforts with you. Is there really a prospect of your brother 
Jerrold entering the blessed state of matrimony? I wish for his soul's sake 
he would, it would lie so much better than flirting with so many fashion- 
able coquettish admirers. I hope Miss Howard is still with you, she 
seemed just the person calculated for you and Jonathan, quiet and fond of 
children. I hope this child will be spared to you; I trust all your friends 
are tqually kind to you. How does my aunt look? What a wonderful 
constitution she has, poor soul. I suppose you aU spent your Christmas 
together. We had two ladies and a gentleman to dinner, after their 
departure we went to a party to Madame de Knis. I thought of the last 
party we all spent together, we too had a fine turkey and also a capon 
for our Christmas dinner. Js^o plum pudding, other sweets inste.-id, we 
were afraid to attempt one as the foreign cook invariably spoils them in the 
boiling. The Genoese are as obstinate as their mules. We have got an- 
other cook, a Sardinian from the Island of Sardina — she promises 
fair. I have no news to give you dear Sarah; mamma is, thank God, very 
very well, with the exception of her constant companion, a cough. I my- 
self was never so well, thank God, though I hardly walk, except to 
church, as it is not customary here for ladies lo walk out alone, so I am a 
prisoner. Our home is so comfortable, and in such a lively situation, that 
I do not care if I ever go out. Parties tome are most irksome, I am no 
longer ■a.lajlatr de ta^^c to enjoy them, and am no dancer, so that I enjoy 
our quiet little tea and fire side more. I long for my piano, which I fear 
will not be the better for a stormy voyage. There have been an immense 
number of shipwrecks and the vessel on which our things came had her 
sails all shattered. P'ive finger glasses were all in sraithers. Mamma was 
not so successful in superintending the packing this time. Give my love to 
all our friends and relatives and kindiv remember me to Miss Howard and 
Mr. Frothingham, and believe me to remain, your loving cousin, 

L. M0I>IVILLE. 

Montreal, July, '65, 
My Dear Howard: — I have had a sharp note from Mr. Carmichael, 
also one from Herbert complaining very bitterly of some of your hired men 
having cut ash timber on their lots. I would respectfully suggest and to 
stop all further complaints that you ask Plerberl and Carmichael to go over 
their lots, count the number of trees that your men cut, send the amount 
of their value and I will send you the money by return of mail to pay them. 
I also think it your duty under the circuinstances to write to each a letter 
of explanation, and I implore you to avoid those disgraceful family broils, 
which will more than upset any beneficial influence your wife could have 
with the Canadian people in your locality. With love to Sar.ah, Tom and 
Arthur, I remain ever, Howard, yours affectionately, 

R. I. Goldsmith. 

Montreal, 1865. 
My Dear. Howard:— I received your letter the day Herbert came 



LIFES REAL ROMANCE. 29 



in. I am sorry you did not get my letter in time to come into the exhibition; 
the show of cattle and vegetable products was very large, but the industrial 
department was not so good as on former occasions. The horticultural de- 
partment was also very good. They were shown in three different places, 
the industrial in the largest place, the cattle on the priest's farm and the 
horticultural in the skating rink. I intended to send you a paper, but for- 
got to do so. These houses, financiering, and patients so bewilder me that 
I do not know what I am doing half the time; the way I contracted for the 
building of the houses caused me a great deal more trouble than if I had 
given them all to one contractor. I had a conversation with Herbert about 
the lines and I regret to say he shows a very antagonistic spirit. Rethinks 
your notice was not according to law. He was anxious that Mr. Barnard's 
agent would grant a piece of ground to l)uild a school house on. Let me 
know what Sarah's wish is as regards the matter. Margaret thought it 
would be a great inconvenience to Sarah, particularly in winter. 1 enclose 
you the surveyor's note; ask him whether your note was according to law. 
In conversation with Herbert he told me about ten dollars per acre was 
what was generally allowed for cleared land. He seemed to say that he 
would not give up the land until he was paid. I shall be most happy to 
advance you the money, it will not inconvenience me to do without it for a 
few months. His receipt in the presence of the surveyor is sufficient, I do • 
not think you need go to the expense of a notarial agreement, try and 
throw oil on the troubled waters, with as much discretion as you can. 
Believe me to remain your affectionate brother Richard. 

London, '65. 
Mv Dear Sarah and Jonathan:— I received your both very 
welcome letters, I was truly glad to hear that the farm at last is getting 
on well, but was much surprised at the small quantity of land you have 
cleared. I also was sorry to hear you say that you did not wish your 
neighbors to get hold of the breed of your Durham cow. I should rather 
advise you to encourage and persuade your neighbors to keep good stock 
as it would make a market about your place and increase the value of your 
land and have something to leave to your dear children. By the by, 
you do not mention them lately; I hope they are well. The more your 
neighbors thrive the belter for you. Have you any bees and honey? I 
suppose not, as the winter is so long. I am glad Richard is building a 
house near you; it will be great company. What a pity Herbert and family 
are not more like Christians and live sociably, I cannot possibly realize the 
idea of people situated as you are keeping up a i|uarrel. It reminds me 
of two Irish sailors on the top of a mast wrecked in the ocean fighting 
about an argument whether Cork or Dublin was the fartherest from them. 
We have had a miserable winter, sloppy, wet, sleet, wind and cold, so 
many people ill and dying of bronchitis and lung diseases. The letter 
closes with news about old friends. 

1871. 
My Dearest Sarah:— Anne Sanfonl and Mrs. Thornhill and her 
husband, Colonel Sanford, have just been hereto lunch looking in a high 
state of preservation. I am writing this at dinner, my dear Margaret talking 
of you to Richard, she sitting at the head of the table Richard at the side 
with his back to the fire and Rupert opposite him, while I am at the foot 



30 life's real romance. 

of the table. Richard ha? just said that Aunt Sarah wears a cap, and it 
becomes her very much. Margaret wishes me to ask you if you received a 
letter from her a few weeks ago, which she wrote to you from Leamington. 
Richard is very methodical and gets up and comes in like clockwork and is 
getting on famously. Like all Canadians he feels the cold, for Canadians 
live like Russians, in stoves of a larger size. I hope Jonathan has made 
your house comfortable, frost and weather tight. A comfortless house is a 
dreadful misery and generally arises from folly and laziness. Richard, 
Rupert and I went to spend the day at Lawn House, Lambton, near the 
Thames, where he met some beautiful and wealthy young ladies but he seems 
to think nothing of the English compared with the lovely young ladies of 
Montreal, he is always talking of home and amuses us by his quaint droll 
stories of Canadian life; he is like our poor good brother Philip. I should 
dearly like go to Canada in the autumn, in July or August. Thank 
God my dearest Margaret is better, but she is not well yet. It is a great 
thing that she is in much less pain than before and I feel that our repeated 
prayers to our dear Lord have been most mercifully answered and you 
can hardly picture to yourself the agony I suffered when listening all night 
to her moans. News of old friends ends the letter. 

My Dearest Sarah : — Dear Jerrold has kindly left me this small space 
to fill and I shall do it with pleasure, I wrote to you from Leamington and 
hope my letter reached you. Richard is expecting to hear from you to- 
morrow. His account of his life in the woods on lots thirty-four and five 
has made dear Rupert long to be there. He is most persevering and will 
I think become a bright star in the medical profession for he allows noth- 
ing to interfere with his hours for attending the lectures. You would be 
pleased dear Sarah, to see how strong and well dear Jerrold is looking, as 
full of spirits as ever, I am still far from strong but have much to be 
thankful for to a compassionate and good God. Dear Rupert is pursuing 
his studies at home with a tutor as the school he went to in the summer 
is in an opposite situation and it is to cold for him, "News of old friends. 
He sends his best love to his cousins with mine, with kind regards to Mr. 
Howard, and fondest love to yourself, ever dearest Sarah your loving 
sister Margaret Goldsmith. 

My Dearest Sarah:— On the other side I send your quarterly 
allowance. I bless and thank God, that I am enabled to pay it to you 
punctually. I have also sent to you in his name a present, thankful to our 
Lord, that so inclined my poor weak heart to feel great joy and comfort in 
doing so. I sent seventy pounds sterling by a bank letter of credit, but 
knowing Jonathan's roving habits and his mismanagement, I left it to 
Richard's discretion as to its use and application, especially as I think it a 
cruel thing towards the poor dear children to sell the land that will get 
a safe and profitable home for them to exchange it for a rubbishing cottage 
or two in a low falling neighl)orhood. I hope God will act for you in this, 
and in all things. I trust Herbert is not brutal and tyrannical, he wrote 
me a ridiculous letter, insinuating that I was guilty of a falsehood, because 
I said a guinea pig jumped on the table, it did off a mahogny desk, and ate a 
bit out of his letter; for this he ridiculed my Christianity, alas for his poor 
head, I fear for him. (news about mutual friends.) Love to Jonathan 
and the boys, good bye, dearest sister, your affectionate brother 

Jerrold. 



life's real romance. 31 

Letters received from Allen H. F. Robertson, of New Brunswick. 
My brother Tom made his and his father's acquaintance while going to 
Montreal with my mother in the following manner: The Robertson's at- 
tention was attracted to a pair of flying squirrels that ray brother had in a 
cage, a conversation was struck up and my brother gave the squirrels to 
them. The eldest Robertson kept up a correspondence with my brother 
for eight years and the Son for the same period with me, although we 
never saw each other. 

December, 1870. 

My Dear Arthur: — When I got the nice letter from you and Tom, 
I thought I would answer it right away, but I was away from home in my 
holidays, and when toschool I had notime I goto the Grammar School 
now, and we are going to have our examination to-morrow. I am sorry to 
say that one of the squirrels died when I was in St. John's and the other 
was so lonely we let it go. Papa saw it afterwards in the garden, but it 
never came back; my little brother Robbie is very well and I am very fond 
of him. I have got a little sister too, nearly three weeks old. As papa 
has written to Tom I thought I would write to you. I send you both a 
book as a Christmas present. Give my love to your mother and Tom in 
which my mother joins. Your loving friend Allen Robertson. 

Fredericton, New Brunswick, 1873. 

Dear Alfred: — I have been having a very nice time of late, skating 
and sliding on the ice, for our field is overflowed and is frozen and makes 
nice skating and the river is froze about one foot and a half deep. We are 
having a written examination now at our school and are pre{)aring for the 
Christmas holidays. I have been keeping rabbits this year, and I have 
liked them very much, and am going to fix up a place for them to stay in 
in the winter. I am going to send you a paper, called the Youth's Com- 
panion as a present this year, thought it would be better to give you that, 
because you would think of me every week, I ho{)eyou will be very much 
pleased with it; is a very nice paper and I and my mother both like it very 
much. My little sister Myra is very sweet she can walk quite well and 
speak a good many words, Nettie is three years old and her birth was the 
second of December. She is very sweet too. What lessons do you learn. 
I learn Latin, history, arithmetic, geometery, reading and geography. I 
have often wished to see you, and hope I will some day. 

Lelersfrom J. Hogarth, a German family sent over from London by 
Uncle Jerrold to learn farming on our farm. lie was a very energetic and 
kind he»arted young man, but could not agree with father, and left for the 
United States after staying about a year at our place. 

My Dear Friends: — Your kind letters dated fifth of June, I received 
in due time and I really feel ashamed at not having answeredfthem before. 
I make common plea of not having had time, believe me, so I will come out 
with the truth, and say nothing but laziness, but nevertheless I hope to be 
forgiven, and promise better things in future. I was very glad to hear 
that you were all well and enjoying yourselves, that everything is progress- 
ing except the price of bark, which I am sorrv to hear has fallen. If I 
was to come back, which I would very much like to do, indeed what I 
intend doing in the future, I am still holding the same place and will try 
and stay till next spring. The climate here is excellent and agrees with 



32 life's real romakce. 



me very well. I weigh n">w one hundred and ninety-one pounds, which 
is considerable more than I ever did before. If ever I should settle down 
anywhere, I believe it would be in California, and then I would be obliged 
to have a very nice little wife, who could make home agreeable and com- 
fortable, so that I would never think of roaming around any more. There 
is nothing like a good home. A young man with nobody in the wide 
world to give him advice or speak a good word to him, when he is low or 
discouraged, gets into bad habits very quick and goes to ruin, unless he 
has character and energy to work through troubles. I say do what's right 
and you will succeed in the end. I have found that honesty is the best 
policy. Since I left your place I have seen many hard times, been sick in 
a strange land without money or friends, traveled through the mountains 
and prairies half starved and more dead than alive with my feet frozen. 
And when I got to a town the doctor said he woutd have to cut them ofT. 
I told him I would sooner die first. And now here I am again hearty and 
well and none the worse oft" for my hard experiences. Now good bye dear 
friends, hoping to hear froni you soon and with best regards to your dear 
parents, friends and yourselves. Yours ever sincerely, 

Fritz Hogarth. 

St. Augustin, 1875 
Dear Tom: — I received Mr. Howard's letter with your note enclosed. 
I am sorry you are having trouble about the school tax, but mistakes will 
occur. I enclose you last years receipt which I hope will make things 
right. Dear Tom I am glad to hear you have left farming, it was sucfi 
rough work for you. I hope you like telegraphing and that it agrees with 
you. How Arthur must miss you and your dear mother. I suppose you often 
drive out to see her, give our kindest love to them all, wishing you all a 
happy Christmas and that God may bless you and prosper you in all your 
undertakings. Your sincere friend, Elizaheth Sherman. 

London, 1875. 
My Dear Nephew:— I was much pleased to receive your letter; you 
can hardly realize the gratification it gives me to find that you arc a steady, 
good and hard working boy. Industry is happiness when united with de- 
pendence and faith in God. F.ven now in my declining years spend com- 
fort as well as profit in early habits of work and zeal. We have two 
friends that are with us night and day. True friends and constant, ever by 
our side, than lover more devoted or young bride, yet when one comes the 
other flies away. For jealous friendship no joint vigils keep. The one 
true friend is work, the other sleep. I was truly sorry though to hear that 
you intend to part from your father, for the tie of father and son is strong 
and holy and you are bound to bear a great deal for your parent's sake, in 
your efforts for them heaven smiles on you and everything prospers in the 
end. I myself owe all my success in life to my kindness and care of my 
mother, God saw my struggles for her so he pitied and helped me. I have 
already written to Uncle Richard about the land I think it wise to have it. 
I fear this letter is badly written for I have mislaid my spectacles and can 
only see dimly, I should think the land a good speculation and with hard 
work it will be a good thing in the end. One thing I pray and urgently 
advise that you, your brother and dear and godly mother stick by each other. 
I hope Tom will be able to earn something at telegraphy allho there is 



life's real romance. 33 



SOH 



nothing so good or healthy and long living as out door work My 
Rupert is going to the Oxford University; he is going to Oriel college, 
Oxford, and will be under the care of a good Christian man. He and his 
mother send their best love to you, Tom, Mamma and your father, and 
all hope you will be united and be under (jod, happy and }iros|jerous. I 
hope to hear from you soon again and see you next May ©r June. With 
kindest love to all, your affectionate Uncle, Jrrrold Goldsmith. 

My Dearest Sarah: — We received your kind letter, but are truly 
sorry to hear of poor Jonathan's severe illness and hojje it will be of short 
length, and in the end all for the better, and with God's blessing turn poor 
Jonathan's thoughts in abetter channel, l)y coming as it were closer to his 
accounts, may by serious thought and closer and more grave examination 
of his past errors, and present false doctrine bring him with your prayers 
and God's merciful help, to a right way of thinking and acting, both as to 
his own soul and as to his duty to others. The true test of spiritual rest 
in Christ is our dealings in love vvith ail around us. A tender conscience 
always at our elbow, is a sure result of God's dealing with his own. I can 
scarcely imagine a child of our blessed Lord, to be a worry and clog to his 
neighbors and careless of the feelings and comforts of those near to him. 
Margaret sends her love to you, so do all your friends. Rupert is on his 
way home, from Italy, where he has been for his health. Write at once 
as Margaret and I are uneasy about poor Jonathan. We trust the warm 
weather will do him good. How fortunate you did the best thing for him, 
in the very beginning, or he would have died in the first eight or ten days. 
I hope you will never let the boys sell or change their land, but work 
steadily at it. I shall be truly delighted by and by, to come and build a 
house out there and live all together. I have written to the boys, and 
Richard and his son. With sincere love, your atlectionate brother 

Jerrold. 

My Dear Tom and Arthur: — I was so glad to get your last letter, 
every thing connected with your farm interests me. Write as often as you 
can. I cannot make out what the machine Uncle Richard gave you is like. 
Cousin Richard is a steady and clever man; what a pleasure to have him 
with you. We have just got mother's letter, and are truly grieved to hear 
of your father's illness. The w<iather here has turned very hot. Cousin 
Rupert is on his way home, he was last at Venice, and is now at Milan. 
Have you corn, oats and root crops enough sown, to feed yourselves and 
your stock ? this should be your first work and then save some of the mc:)ney 
which will help you to get all the land you can, by and by, and it will turn 
into heaps of gold, il will increase so much in value every year. I wish I 
could send you something useful for the farm, but the freight is so dear, 
and the trouble and risk so great, besides I suppose duty on everything. 
Rupert has a bicycle and looks such a height up, he goes along on it for 
miles at the rale of eleven miles an hour. Rupert is six feet two inches. 
Your affectionate Uncle Jerrold. 

San Francisco, 1875. 

My Dear Friends:— Your kind letters were received, and thank you 
for your kindness in remembering me once in a while. Letters from dear 
friends also cheer me up. I am not quick in making friends here. I have 

5 



34 life's real romance. 



no intimate ones at all. I am very glad lohear that you are getting along 
so finely and by the time I come to see you will have your whole lot clear- 
ed. According to your letter, grain and vegetables are very high there. I 
suppose a man could make considerable money there by raising those kinds 
of crops, and especially when that new railroad is built from Sorrel to 
Montreal, Aston will be quite a town by that time. I hope dear Tom that 
you will succeed with your telegraphing, as I believe it would suit you 
better than farming. I suppose yuu are having it pretty cold already with 
lots of snow and Irost. Here it is very warm and nice. Next month, 
that is November, they say the rainy season commences. I am ns»w near- 
ly a year here, how time flies, I like it here first rale, and am still in the 
same place. I will try and be better and steadier now, and (juit roaming 
around a while, and with God's help get something of my own by and by, 
and lay the foundation to a good and permanent home. I suppose you 
too, must have grown awfully since I left you. I hope you will send me 
your picture in return lor mine. With love to you dear friends, and kind 
regards to your dear parents antl relationSi Your sincere friend, 

Fritz Hogarth. 

Montreal, 1876. 
My Df.ar Sa.rah:- I received the post office order for twenty-eight 
dollars, also the receipt for the taxes on the lots. As the boys are minors, 
it wjll be necessary to a|)point a tutor for them as they cannot accept it in 
their own name, while minors. Nor can you as there is no marriage con- 
tract. As Jerrold is your guardian and benefactor, and as I have been act- 
ing as his attorney here, I must first write to him and s.;bmit a copy of the 
document for his approval. I do not think he will object vvhen he knows 
the transaction will be for their benefit. I have drawn out a copy of the 
agreement, which I will submit to a notary and send to Jerrold for his 
approval. First the price to be twelve hundred dollars. That I acknowl- 
edge having received three hundred and sixty-four; that is twenty-eight 
from the boys and three hundred and thirty-six from Jerrold, leaving a 
balance of eight hundred and thirty-six, payable in four years at two 
hundred and nine a year, bearing interest of five per cent. That I retain 
tlie right of taking twenty acres for my own personal use at the same price 
as they pay at any time, that they use the whole till I allot my twenty acres 
should i ever see fit to do so. That the property held in trust for them by 
Jerrold and myself, be handed over to them when of age, that they have 
not the power of selling the property for ten years without the consent of 
Jerrold or myself. That they be empowered to take immediate possession 
of the lots on getting Jerrold's consent and that no one be empowered to 
remove the bark or lumber or use the lots in any way without the boys' 
consent, that any money you may advance to them you are to hold a per- 
sonal mortgage on the property. I remain, with love to all, your aftection- 
ate brother. Richard. 

The only letter I ever received from my dear mother: 

Montreal, December 4th, 1875. 

My Dear Arthur:— I am so sorry to disappoint you, my dear boy, 
but cannot go back until next Wednesday. The dress maker is in the 
house, making my dresses, two lovely ones. I have a splendid supply of 



life's Heal romance. 35 



things for your father, Tom and yourself, a comfortable supply for the 
winter. God is good to us my sweet Arthur. I hope you read the word 
of God, it is the only book that will make you wise and happy. How does 
the servant boy do his work? Tell him I hope to see the house clean and 
tidy. Your cousins are coming out on New Years day. Give my love to 
your father and Tom. I remain your loving mother, S. Howard. 

Montreal, 1876. 
My Dear Arthur: — xiccording to my promise I write to let you 
know about the lots. Father wrote to Uncle Herbert some lime ago in- 
iormiug him of the sale, and it is his intention to write to you, but in the 
meantime you can work away at them, and I would advise you to go down 
at once and cut down the brush that has grown up in my old clearance 
just '.o make a beginning and I believe the arrangements between Tom and 
yourself will be satisfactory, you have my best wishes for your success, and 
I firmly believe that you will eventually succeed by perseverance. 

WHAT MY MOTHER WROTE IN THE FRONT LEAVES OF A BIBLE SHE GAVE ME. 

"When I can trust my all to God, 
In trial's fearful hour, 
1 can bow resigned beneath the rod 
And bless his chastening power, 
A light will spring amidst distress, 
A fountain in the wilderness," 

BLESSING. 

"Blessed is he that readeth." 

WARNING. 

'•Thou shall not add or take from. It is the book in which Ciod 
speaks." 

"No one ever resists the Holy spirit and su[)presses the convictions of 
his own heart without a great increase of sinfulness.'' 

"Form your judgements and conf»jrm your actions according to its 
blessed and holy principles, my sjns, and you will be happy in lime and 
safe in eternity." 

Brighton, January, 1S74. 
My Dear Tom AND Arthur:— I received your letters a few days 
ago, and write to thank you for them. For the last fortnight, we have 
been staying here for the benefit of mamma's health. This is a very nice 
place on the sea coast, sixty miles from London. There are two piers here 
which extend a long way out into the sea, on the end of which a band 
plays every day. For the last few days it has been too rough for boats to 
go out. On the beach are men who hire out all sorts of boats by the hour 
and also supply bait and lines for fishing. In a short time we caught eighty 
whiting, you have to row or sail out a mile and then anchor the boats 
above some rocks, where the fish are in shoals. This is for the line fishing 
but the neth are used from the decks of small fishing smacks which go much 
further out to sea, and sometimes sail up to Gravesend, at the mouth of 
the Thames, and from there forward their cargo by train to London. A 
fine aquarium has been built here lately, they have two fine s[)eciinens of 
the Octopus, it is a very ugly fish, its eyes are bright, more like a frog's 



3ig life's real romance. 

than a fish's, its body is round with eight long feelers with which it swims 
in a peculiar way shooting itself forward by these feelers, and then allowing 
them to fall close to the body and trail behind as it goes through the water 
it has somewhat the appearance of a comet. [Rest lost.] Your affection- 
ate cousin, Rupert Goldsmith. 

Marina St. Leonards, on Sea, September, 1862. 

Oh Dear Mrs. Howard:— My heart is riven in twain, can you 
remember anything that my poor, precious Victoria ever said when with 
you respecting her soul. I am so anxious about the everlasting condition of 
my beautiful child. If I had been told that Blanche was to go, I should 
hardly have supposed I could have survived it but now her death seems 
swallowed up in the more unexpected and extraordinary ones accompany- 
ing it. My thoughts are continually and above all three, of course, with 
my beloved husband. At times I am quite miserable, and quite weak in 
body. None of the servants can comfort me with the remembrance of 
any religous observation made by darling Victoria. Poor, dear child, she 
must have suffered the longest. The children told me they had seen you 
walking with the Miss Us., in Hyde Park. I returned to London, but what 
an altered life. A house in Oxford square has been taken for me. God is 
very good in the midst of my tribulations but he is indeed dealing very myste- 
riously with me. I want a steady man servant. Trusting you are well, 
believe me, my dear Mrs, Howard, in deep sorrow, cast down, though 
not destroyed, your affectionate friend, Julia Amelia Barrett. 

Note. Shortly after the death of her eldest daughter, their house 
took fire, and her husband heroically lost his life, in trying to save their 
only child. 

Laramie City, March 11, 1872. 
Sir:— I have come to the conclusion to pen you a few words, as I 
feel interested and anxious to hear from you and family and the rest of my 
old neighbors. I pray that these words may find you all in as good 
health as they leave me. I have been blessed with the best of health 
since I have been in this region, thank providence. I imagine that you 
are all preparing to make svigar. I wish that I was with you. This 
region is very severe this winter; more so than it has been known to be 
for many a year. I think that, according to the snow in the mountains, 
there will be great destruction along the Mississippi river and its tribu- 
taries in the spring. I will tell you what I am doing this winter: I am 
in the mountains of Colorado making ties, and the prospect is very good 
as to the business. I have twelve men making ties for me. I had the 
misfortune to lose one of them the other day. Myself and some of my 
men had to bury him in this country style — dig a hole in the ground and 
then wrap him up in his blankets, put him in and cover him up; it don't 
look human. It is my intention to return to my family in September. I 
would be very happy if I could hear from Miss Howard and the babes, as 
I always call them. I pray God to bless you and family. I hope you 
will have the kindness to write me a few words (I don't think j'ou will 
disoblige me J and give me all the news. Your friend, 

James Darker. 

January 186 3. 
My Best Beloved Sarah: — When I look back on the number of 



LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 3'J' 

months that I have allowed to elapse since I have received your very 
welcome letter I feel quite grieved with myself, because I have no valid 
excuse for so long a silence; not that you are to think for one moment 
thati love you the less than when you left us, but partly, perhaps, because 
many subjects interesting to you when with us would lose that interest 
when you are amongst an entirely different set of persons. When I 
received your letter I was nursing my eighth baby with bronchitis. She 
had been suffering all the winter from it, and our Heavenly Father took 
the httle one to His heavenly home. It was a blue eyed baby, gentle 
and patient, and her name was Edith Catharine. It was my first trial as 
mother in the loss of a little one, but I am thankful I could say from my 
heart "Thy will not mine be done." Many thanks, dear Sarah, that we 
should be the first to try Mr. Morrison's extract; but you forget that our own 
firm only uses oak bark and Mr. Morrison's extract is made from hemlock 
bark, so they cannot use it. Mrs. Morrison called and spent this evening 
with us. I like Mrs. M. very much, but do not think much of hirn. 
They stop quite close to us, but as they did not know you intimately we 
did not keep up the acquaintance, as our circle of friends is as large as we 
wish it to be. The extract is selling very well among the tanners. The 
most important event since your departure is Tom's marriage. He mar- 
ried Sarah Walker, who for many years admired him. She is a sweet 
Christian, unselfish, persevering, loving and firm: plain in face, but a fine 
figure and taller than Tom; exceedingly well adapted for him, and at her 
father's death will come in for a very handsome fortune. They are living 
at Clanmire House, which her beloved mother presented him. She has 
been . suffering from an attack of rheumatic gout that has gone into her 
head. She is anxious about her soul — it hath not pleased God to pour 
upon her soul His holy spirit. Oh, what a bleesed privilege it is to be 
one of the Lord's chosen ones. Mary has tolerable health, but suffers 
■now and then with her liver. Their little meeting flourished and 
increased in number; they have prayer meetings Monday, Wednesday and 
Thursday evenings. There are several of the Plymouth Brethren living 
about here. There has been a large church built in Sydenham Park, 
costing sixteen thousand pounds, and a very good evangelical minister has 
been secured for it, which is a great blessing now-a-days when the High 
Church party are getting more Roman Catholic in their vagaries than ever. 
I do not know whether you see much of the newspapers, but our country 
is not as quiet as when you left. The lower masses are ripening for rebel- 
lion, and Fenianism is a very unruly power amongst heretics in religion 
who stalk abroad and -commerce has not been so flourishing since the 
American war. You do not say anything in your letter of Jonathan. Is 
he still as theoretical as ever. Does he till the ground. Tell us all about 
him in your letter. You seem to have very good health, which is a 
great blessing. You have your two nice boys. You still have pleasure 
in imparting knowledge to others— it is quite your forte. My dear hus- 
band has very good health and is still the same dear loving creature to me. 
Our children are growing rapidly. Florence is nearly as tall as I am, 
very handsome, gentle, patient, loving, domesticated, as you predicted 
she would be. (She goes on describing the other eight children, but I 
will not tire the reader as a mother's description is always partial.) Do 
write soon to us, dear Sarah. We all love you so much. You have not 



3§ life's real romance. 



given us a description ot your home. I wonder, dearest, will we ever 
naeet on this earth again. I must now say farewellf with our united, fond- 
est love to you. Kisses for the boys and love to Jonathan. 

Believe me to be your ever faithful friend, 

Eleanor A. J. Bacon. 

Father received a letter from a president af a railway saying he 
heard from a French judge, a friend of father's, that he was a civil 
engineer, and offered father the position of superintending the construc- 
tion of the railway; but father did not accept. 

In a letter from Uncle Richard to mother, dated 1S70, he says: 

"My Dearest Sarah: — I send your quarter's money, which is set- 
tied on you and your children for life, or such of them as may survive." 

The letter he had signed by a witness. 

Montreal, July 1873. 
My Dear Sarah:- I have just received your letter with a large 
batch of others from Mabel and Angelica, business letters, one from Aston, 
Richard, and the last, not least, one from your precious self. I hope you 
got home safely and found everything all right. Margaret left for 
Kamouraska, with Flora and Cliftbrd. I shall go down in about a fort- 
night. Can you manage to go with me. If you can I will pay the 
piper. If I go it will be in about a week or two — much depending on 
how I feel, I may take an indescribable longing to see my sweet pet, and, 
as Jonathan says the Goldsmiths are impulsive, I should go whether or no. 
As you are aware, Mabel and Angelica are enjoying themselves immensely 
in England, I fancy they feel a little annoyed with Richard for not look- 
ing after them more, but if they only knew what a hard job it w as to [jass 
an examination in London, I am sure they would forgive him. Richard 
is a faithful, hard working fellow. He does not like to get rejected. Tell 
Mr, Howard I am much obliged for the essay he kindly sent me, and I 
trust his health is improving. I had a letter from Herbert, The only 
reply he made to my letter was that it was a sin to be poor, but that it was 
nor his fault. The fact is I wrote the letter for his wife's benefit, and I 
hope it will do her good. With much love to Jonathan, yourself and 
the boys, I remain your affetionate brother, Richard. 

C. O. Bacon wrote to father, in 1 87 1, applying for the position of 
school teacher in Aston village. He was hired at three hundred a year. 
At the present time he is the best medical man in the village. Such are 
the rewards of perseverance and industry. 

My Dear Sarah:--! was glad to receive your letter. I have at 
different times felt surprised that you did not answer mine; so I think it 
was lost. I am thankful to say my eyes are better; rest from overwork 
did them most good. What a blessing you are all in good health. I 
hope your two sons are converted. I thought Tom might have been a 
minister. I scarcely recollect your son Arthur; I hope he will be a great 
comfort to you. I think it is very nice to be a farmer. I always admired 
the country, but of course we like the town also. Last year Sankey and 
Moody came from America. What an amazing amount of good the Lord 
made use of them to effect. I was asked to join the house to house visit- 



life's real romance. 39 



ing, which I did for some months: but, from over >vork, I broke down 
and got so ill that I did not know whether I would live or not. The 
doctor ordered me to lake mutton chojis, brandy and tonic medicine^ 
When you left England you must have missed your brother terribly. Vou 
know, dear Sarah, how sorry we were at your leaving England. My 
sister said it was like a death, but we have a hope full of immortality 
that the time is rapidly approaching when death shall be swallowed up in 
victory. Your nephew, Rupert (Goldsmith, is now quite a tall young 
man, and now I most conclude with tenderest love. 

Believe me to be your affectionate friend, 

Ellen Bibby. 
P. S.--When Moody was asked what he was coming to England for 
he said thirty thousand souls, and here he has had more than double that 
number. It seems as if God was gathering in his people and that as if 
Satan was ever busy, knowing that he has but a time to do all the evil 
he can. Romanism and infidelity are prevalent in London. We have a 
lady visiting at our house who was a Protestant but has become a Roman 
Catholic and made her children become the same, but I sometimes have 
a hope left for the children, one 15 and the other 16 >%ars of age, both 
Americans. One of them has liked very much to read in the New 
Testament. 

Denver, Colorado, 1871. 
Dear Mrs. Howard:— I wrote you long ago from here, but 
received no answer. I would like to hear from you and know if you are all 
well and how you are getting along. I have had very bad luck since I 
have been out here. I have been very sick since last October. I was in 
the hospital wiih typhoid fever. I had also frozen my feet; came very 
near losing them. The doctor said, when they brought me in, that he did 
not expect that I would live. Last week I left the hospital, but weak 
as a cat and awfully lame on account of my feet. Vou would hardly 
have known me; I was so poor — nothing but skin and bones. And, then, 
I had another misfortune: While I was sick somebody broke open my 
trunk and took $75, and also a ticket to vSan Francisco worth $85, and a 
suit of clothfcs. I informed the police about it, but to no purpose. I 
will not be able to work before spring. Please write soon and let me 
know how you are all getting along. Give my kind regard to all friends, 
and, hoping to hear from you soon, I remain yours truly, 

Fritz Hogarth. 

Salem, Ohio, 1873. 
Dear Tom and Arthur:— I arrived here three days ago and have 
been resting myself and writing letters since. It is hotter hereabouts 
than in Canada, that is to say, the sun shines brightly all the time but the 
air is not oppressive and it is quite cool in the mornings, besides it is a 
cool stone house, shaded with trees, in which I am staying. It was very 
cool and pleasant traveling on Lakes Erie and Ontario. We stopped at 
Oswego, and in coming through Welland Canal, between the two lakes, 
while the stecnier was coming slowly through the canal, I drove to 
Niagara Falls. It took an hour and a half driving each way. The falls 
looked beautiful in the sunshine, and the roadway on the Canadian side 



40 life's real romance.. 



was quite wet and muddy from the spray blowing on to it. In going 
up the St. Lawrence I did not see much of the rapids, as the steamer 
ascended by the canals. Had a fine view of Bauharnois rapids, with a 
steamer descending them. It was a fine sight. There are lots of wooded 
Islands on the upper St. Lawrence, and the scenery in many parts is 
beautiful; but on the Great Lakes it was like being at sea, except that the 
water was almost as smooth as a river. On Lake Erie, at one time, we 
appeared to be quite out of sight of land, but it was not so at any time on 
Lake Ontario. We landed at .Cleveland, where rry voyage ended. 
Cleveland is a very smoky city not quite so large as Montreal. They 
burn soft coal here, which makes the city look black and old. I did not 
see anything very interesting. There was a tall brick light house close to 
where I was staying. The weather here seems to have been different to 
what we had at Aston; there was so much rain that the creeks were 
flooded. Hay is not a bad ciop here as in Upper Canada. This is a 
bad year for apples, but last year was a particularly good one. [Other 
personal news and inquiries about acquaintances he made at Aston.] 

Very truly your cousin, 
• E. Howard. 

South Sea, Portsmouth, 1S69. 
My Dear Richard: — I was dreaming of you all night last night, 
and snatch a few moments to write to you before crossing in the ferry 
boat to the Isle of Wight, which is opposite our windows. I sent Sarah 
her quarterly money. I have settled sixty pounds a year on her, and to 
be [continued to her children; provided, I do not extinguish the obliga- 
tion by paying a lump sum of one thousand pounds at any time I may be 
desirous of doing so. I pray God that you and your family are well. 
It will be a bright day to me when I can go and see you all. I trust that 
poor Herbert will soon be reconciled to Sarah, as those family feuds are 
very ugly and unprofitable things and a great and sinful ingratitude to God 
for all His mercies, especially so from Herbert, who is so indebted to his" 
relations for kindness and generosity. I have taken a house next to ours 
for my father and mother-in-law at five guineas a week. We expect you 
and your family to visit us soon. [Private family news I have omitted.] 

Your affectionate brother, 

Jerrold Goldsmith. 

London, 1869. 
My Dearest Sarah: — Your last welcome letter, received about 
three weeks ago, gives us great pleasure, as it told us you were all quite 
well — a blessing, which I happy to say, we also have great cause for 
happiness. For the last six months dear Jerrold and each one of us 
have been in perfect health. Your cousm, George Sanford, has had the 
title of C. B. conferred upon him for his attention to the sick and dying 
in Japan, and was obliged to appear at one of the levees. I intend 
soon to send you Rupert's likeness; he is going to be very tall. I was 
sorry to hear of .your brother Herbert's opposition to your teaching 
school, for I can well imagine how interested you feel in the progress of 
your pupils. How kind and good your brother Richard appears to be, 
as benevolent and unselfish, I think, as my dear John, who is ever ready 



life's real romance. 41 



to be generous, kind and good to all his and my relations and friends, 
and is now acting the part of a true son tw my dear parents. God has 
been very merciful in sprtring them to us. My father is over eightiy. 
Rupert sends his best love to his cousins. From dear Arthur's likeness 
I should say he looks very much like his dear father. With love to you 
and the boys and kind regards to Mr. How-ard, ever, dearest Sarah, 

Your affectionate sister, 

Margaret Goldsmith. 

In another letter t® my dear mother, dated London, i86i, she says: 
"Since you have left Montreal, I fear you will find the cold more trying 
in the woods than in the city. We have had severer weather here than 
has been known for many years — the water pipes are of no use, and 
even the gas pipes are frozen. I dare say you have seen an account in 
the Aloniini^ Post of my dear husband's charitable donations to the poor 
during the time of the severe frost. His kind heart was moved by seeing 
some of the poor starving creatures attack a baker's shop. When the 
policemen appeared to be using them roughly, he made the whole crowd 
come to his house, and he and his two assistan'ts were the whole night 
employed in giving orders to the baker to give them bread." [Private 
news that would not interest the public] 

Another friend, in 1861, in alluding to the American war, says: 
"I hope, dear Mrs. Howard, that the fearful distur])ances in America have 
not affected you. We have often spoken of you in reference to the out- 
break, regretting that you were in America during such a scene as doubt- 
less there has been, and which I trust is ended by this time." 

Aston, 1871. 
Dear Sir: — Yours of the ist of January duly came to hand a few days 
ago, having gone to New Jersey and back. I am very glad to perceive 
there is some chance of getting you and Mrs. Howard to come and live in 
the village, and anything I can do towards forwarding your plans shall be 
dor^e most willingly. I made an arrangement with I. LaBonte, wherehy 
he transferred to me his house and lot on the Mines road, and I believe it 
and the land adjoining would suit you, and will let you have it almost on 
your own terms to have another English family in our circle. Trusting to 
see you, and with best regards to ]\Irs. Howard, 

I remain yours truly, 

Timothy Meredith. 

In a letter, dated 1870, Uncle Richard says to father: "Your mare 
I think you have treated judiciously. The only remedy I would suggest 
is one of rosin, one of black antimony and one of saltpetre rubbed 
together in a mortar, and give a tablespoonful in a bran mash night and 
morning. If you had some carrots — they are splendid for horses. I must 
caution you against glanders, for it is a most deadly and contagious 
disease, but it is only taken when matter is applied to the mucus mem- 
brane, such as inside the lips, nose or eyes: for instance, a horse coughing 
in your face will give it. I am going out next week. If it would not put 
you to any inconvenience I would prefer sleeping at your house. I expect 
to succeed in getting you a servant boy before going out." 

Before beginning the period of ny life, after my dear mother's death, 

6 



^2 " life's real romance. 

I shall give a short sketch of the four English families who were our 
neig .^'jj^^^^^ _^g^-^^ f^,^j|y consisted of eight boys and three girls. The 
eldest Herbert, studied medicine and became a doctor in a town iar out 
West 'where he married and made himself a good position in society, and 
annually sent his lather over one hundred dollars. The second son, 
Richard, lell in love with Teresa Sherman, who accepted him; but, unlor- 
tunately, his grasping father had the audacity to ask Mr. Sherman how 
much he was going" to settle on his son-in-law, to which the gentleman 
replied- "I have only one child and intend to leave her all my property, 
but I must say I never heard of a father-in-law being obliged to settle a 
certain sum of amount on his son.in-law;-' at which Uncle Herbert 
became indignant and, with his wife, encouraged his son to break oft the 
match and go to his brother out West. It did not require much per- 
suasion on their part to make him do so, for he was terribly disgusted 
and ashamed of his parents" meanness. However, if I had been in his 
place I would not have allowed their meanness to separate two loving 
hearts; for, had he acted a noble and true lover's part, Miss Sherman would 
certainly have married him, for she really loved him. He, however, left 
her in a cowardly manner, going out West without even seeing her. 

The third son, Joseph, fell in love with his brothers sweetheart, but 
failed to awake any response on her part. He was her ddvoted lover for 
several years. I rememl)er one extremely humiliating incident that 
occurred to him. Miss Sherman called one day on a visit to our house. 
Joseph was there at the time, and, as well may be imagined, he took the 
opportunity of basking in the sunshine of her presence; but, before many 
minutes elapsed, his mother entered with a swoop and grasping him by the 
coat collar led him out of the house. Miss Sherman smiled with pity and 
contempt, for she was utterly indifferent to his attentions. 

The fourth son was named ferrold, a very intelligent young man who 
became a clerk in a large grocery business at Montreal and had very 
bright prospects before him, being very much liked by his employer w-ho 
treated him almost as a child; but, in a moment of folly, he reiuseed a 
request of the proprietor to do some slight menial service while the shop 
boys were engaged at something else. He of his own accord gave up the 
place and went West. He became a commercial traveler at St. Louis, 
but a short time after died of consumption. 

Jonathan, Philip and Arthur are to be mentioned in my journal. 
Arthur, the youngest, died while an infant. 
The eldest daughter died in the old country. 

Sarah, the second, a tine looking girl, got married to Timothy Deane, 
a farmer in comfortable circumstances in Davenport, but, even in her 
case, her parents foolishly interlered and used their influence in persuading 
her to accept him. He actually proposed to the father before asking the 
daughter. She could not bear his rough and coarse manners.and left him, 
coming back back to her parents. 

Ethel, the youngest, I describe in my journal later on. 
The Carmichael family consisted of four sons and a daughter by the 
first wife. 

The eldest daughter married an Upper Canadian. 
The eldest son became one of Montreal's wealthiest manufacturers, 
His name was Walter Richard. 



life's real romance. 43 

The second son went through the American war, and then returned, 
became a married men and worked in his brother's factory. 

The thfrd son, Jerrold, also went through the war, and then followed 
in his second eldest brother's footsteps. 

The fourth brother was killed during the Savazzi riots in Montreal. 
The family by the second wife consisted of four sons and a girl. 
The eldest, Stephen, was a would-be Methodist preacher. I remem- 
ber one ludicrous incident as regards him. A French Canadian met him 
o»e Sunday morning in a lonely part of the road gesticulating wildly, and 
discovered he was practicing oratory on his way to speak to his rustic 
audience. He also went to Montreal to work in his brother's factory, 
and got married there. 

Daniel, Herbert and Clifford I shall present to the reader further on. 
Angelica, the daughter, was a sentimental little creature who eagerly 
devourecl every novel she could lay her hands on. My dear mother dur- 
ing her lifetime often warned her against it. She, however, would not 
believe they were pernicious, and she entered into matrimony in a dime 
novel method — she ran away from her home with a man that had been once 
a gentleman, named St. George, but now a habitual drunkard. The 
mother's rage and mortification knew no bounds, for she was under the 
impression that St. George visited their house to pay his addresses to her- 
self, as she had been now a widow for over two years. 
The Cross family moved to Dudley to live there. 

Mr. Sherman, who was a skillfut mechanic, received employment as 
engineer and manager of the bark factory belonging to Morrison ol the 
village of Preston, six miles rom Aston. He moved there with his 
family, and earned several dollars a day. He bought a farm there. 

A Mr. Bentley, an Englishman, came to that village looking for 
employment. He had been an officer in the English army and belonged 
to a good family, but their entire wealth was lost in the mundation of a 
mine, and his pride would not allow him to remain in the army when he 
could not live on equal terms with his brother officers, or live according 
to their style. When he met the amiable and charming Miss Sherman it 
was a case of love at first sight, and he at once laid siege to her heart. 
Her parents took an interest in him, and admired his elegant manners and 
education, as did also Mr. Morrison, who offered him the employment of 
working the extract pan, which reduced the liquor to its proper con- 
sistency. He had no false pride about him and accepted the position at 
one dollar and a half per day. 

Miss Sherman, who by this time had began to somewhat recover 
from the base treachery my cousin had shown her, began to admire the 
manly and intellectual lieauty of this perfect gentleman, which deepened 
into love under his ardent devotion, and ended in marriage. 

Morrison's bark factory closed some time after this on account of a 
lawsuit that firm had with Sharp's tannery at Richford. 

Mr. Sherman now received an ofTer from a Mr. Field, who was agent 
for a large English company that had two large factories, one at St. 
Augustine and another at St. Liberie, which he accepteil, and went there 
with his son-in-law. 

Alter a few years Hentley's genius became apparent. He invented a 
new process for which the company paid him a large sum of money. 



44 LIFE £ REAL ROMANCE. 



Shortly after this the company went into insolvency. Here, again, he 
showed his business talent. The company offered twenty thousand acres 
of land, several thousand cords of V)ark and their factories at half price. 
He accepted, raised the money and in a few years became a wealthy man. 
Journal commenced August 30th, 1876: 

August 30th. — Bargained with Lapointe for him to draw fifteen cords 
of bark to Aston for one dollar a cord; also raked and drew in two loads 
of oats and cut down oats beside. 

August 31st — Cut oats, , 

September 1st. — Cut oats in the morning, and in the afternoon drew 
a load of bark to Aston. 

September 2d. — Rained hard in the forenoon. I drew stones at the 
Goldsmiths in the afternoon, while Jonathan and Tom made a track for 
t'he sawing machine. 

September 3d. — Posted letter to Uncle Richard. Took dinner at 
S.'s. St. George took a drive with Miss Frazer; it is quite probable that 
they will get married. 

September 4th. — Raining in the morning. Forenoon, underbrushed; 
afternoon, cut roads to bark. 

September 7th. — Rose at 5 o'clock. Uncle Richard came fRom Mon- 
treal; went with him. Uncle Herbert, father and myself explored the 
sVream on lot thirty-five and discovered the rock that obstructed its 
current. 

September 8th. — As it was raining fired at targets most of the day. 
Received a letter from my cousin Angelica Goldsmith, daughter of Uncle 
Richard, from Salford, England. She married a large 'manufacturer of 
hardware, who lives there. She writes : 

My Dear Tom and Arthur: — It makes my heart ache to t-feink 
©f you now, without your dear Mother. I wish I was nearer to sympat'iike 
with you, and I pray God to comfort you both. I got a letter from 
Ma4)el yesterday, and she told me how grieved they were at not knowing 
how seriously ill our dear aunt was, or they would have gone out. Poor 
papa feels it very much. We know that dear in the sight of the Lord is 
the death of his saints, and what a world of care your dear mother has 
passed from. Still, for ourselves, our loss is very great. I shall always 
feel a deep interest in you and would be so glad if you felt inclined to 
write to me at any time. I think you know my address Oxford House, 
Salford, England. How is your papa now? I heard that he had just 
recovered from a dangerous attack of congestion of the lungs. Good bye, 
my dear cousins, with much love your affectionate cousin, 

Angelica E. P'othergill. 
September 13. — Uncle Jerrold, who had just arrived from London, 
came out from Montreal with Uncle Richard. Next day we went over 
Uncle Herbert's, father's farm and our own, and in the evenmg Uncles 
Jerrold and Richard went to McNeill's and made a handsome present to 
Mrs. McNeill, who attended on my dear mother during her illness. 
Uncle Jerrold generously tries to hide his great grief and sorrow. He 
only heard of her death when he landed. I can imagine the shock it 
must have been to him, full as he was of joyful anticipations of meeting a 
sister he almost adored. In the evening he related to ussome of his 
adventures while serving in the English Legion that fought for Queen 
Isabella of Spain. 

September i6th. — Vistted most of our friends in Aston. 



life's real romance. 45 

September iSth. — Had a 'dispute — father acting a very mean part to 
the man who had been a great benefactor to our family since it has been in 
America. Uncle left in a Pullman car the same morning for Monueal. 

Setpember 19th. — Carmichaels came from Montreal and went out 
shooting partridges. The season commenced on September 1st. During 
this time \*'e were very busy cutting and cording bark and cutting buck- 
wheat. One evening a meteor fell close to the house. A P'renchman said 
some one would die in the house before the year was out. Gave out a few 
small jobs to Canadians to clear land our lots. 

One morning Tom and I awoke and found in our room the following 
that had been written by father for us. 

REFLECTIONS. 

"Let not soft slumbers close your eyes, until 3-ou have recollected thrice. 
The train of actions through the day, where have my feet chose out their way; 
What have 1 learned where e'er 1 have been, from all 1 have and from all I have seen 
What know I more that's worth the knowing, what have I done that's worth the doing,' 
What have I sought, that I should shun, what duty have 1 left undone. 
Or unto what new follies run. 
These self inquiries are the road that lead to virtue and to God." 

This without doubt is excellent advice, but I must say that a single 
word from my dear mother had more effect on Tom and myself than all 
my father's theoretical advice put together. The first of October I went to 
church and tookdinner at Guernsey's. It is a Norwegian family, the father 
was killed in the American war, the wife receives a pension and the three 
children till they were of age. Tom and I had a dispute. He was trying 
to get the fall ploughing done before the frosts set in; he wanted to saw 
wood ior the Carmichaels, he threatened to return to telegraphy; measured 
and inspected the two acres of land, that letreault and Lapointehad chop- 
ped, also the acre Napoleon had chopped. In inspecting land that has 
been chopped ready ior logging, one has to very carefully examine it to see 
that the brush piles are well piled and compact or otherwise they would 
not burn, also that all the timber is cut twelve foot long, if cut longer than 
that it is too heavy for a team to draw it; also to see that all the logs are 
cut completely through and that the brush is cut close to the surface of the 
ground. 

In the evening I wrote to Uncle Jerrold, Tom to Mr. Robertson, of 
N. B. Paid the men for their work, had a dispute with letreault because 
he would not take some sheep that he promised to in part payment for the 
work. Will not give him any more work. Received a letter from Uucle 
Richard. 

My Dear Boys: — Your Uncle Jerrold left on Wednesday, the second 
of the month for England, byway of New York. PVom what he said 
while he was here, 1 thought he expected to hear from you. I would ad- 
vise you each to write a letter to him, enclosed in the same envelope, thank- 
ing him for his great kindness to you. I was sorry to hear that your father 
quarreled with him; even if your uncle was at fault, I think from his 
former acts of generosity to your dear mother, he ought to have been more 
careful. Your uncle went to several marble yards, but did not find one to 
suit. Heordered me to get one. Before sending it out, I will write to 
yoix, I think it will be necessary to build a basement for it. Your uncle 
told me to tell your cousin Richard, to build a fence around the lot and 
send me the account; should you see him, tell him not to put up the fence 



46 life's real romance. 



till the headstone is first put up. I do not know what rule there is in 
Aston as regards lots in the cemetery, in Montreal they are very expensive. 
I think you had better find out from Mr. Willoughby or some of the 
church wardens. You might also ask what kind of a foundation 
of cedar, or stone. I should like you both to come to town and spend a 
few days with us, when you have time. Vour aunt is anxious to see you 
both. I do not think a few days holidays will do you any harm. Have 
you all your crops in yet ? Are you going to build a barn on the 
lots this year ? Have you decided on the place to build the house and 
barn ? I hardly think it would be wise to have a barn without a house, as 
the people would be likely to help themselves to its contents. With love 
to your father, believe me to remain, dear boys, your affectionate uncle 

Richard J. Goldsmith. 

Went to Mr. Meredith's; paid him a dollar and fifty cents for quarter 
of a year for our pew in Aston church, played cards with Florence, Margaret 
and Tommy Meredith, came home late, went to church next day on horse 
back, passed aunt Margaret and Jonothan at Lefevre's, put my horse in 
Mousseme's stables, had a very long sermon, met Nicholas Meredith at 
church, on returning home had for dinner, apple pie, potatoes, butter, bread 
and milk. On Monday 'sold Francis Eurke a sheep for three dollars and 
seventy five cents, also gave him an acre of land to chop for five dollars. 
Tom set the sawing machine at C's. The ground is first leveled and large 
wooden stakes driven into the ground to which the machine is fastened by 
chains. Gave Louis Brodeur four acres of land to partially clear on the 
south east corner of our land. He was to underbrush it and chop in 
lengths and put in piles all the soft wood timber on it, the hard wood to be 
left standing, to be chopped up for cord wood in the winter. 

October loth.— Rose at half past five, milked the cow, during the 
day Tom and I dug twenty three bushels of potatoes. Received a letter 
from Uncle |errold. 

My Dear Tom and Arthur: — I leave Montreal to-morrow by 
steamboat for Toronto to the Falls of Niagara and then home by New 
York. It would have given me great pleasure to have seen you, my dear 
good boys once more before I slept, but I thought it better not to waste 
your money, and still more precious time by traveling, every hour is now 
valuable, and gentle, but constant work and employment, is the great secret 
of wealth, health and happiness. I shall be glad when you have cleared 
and drained some land on your own lots; and then get up at first a small 
barn, but one to which you can add as occassion requires. What a bless- 
ing that you have a large quantity of land, and that every improvement 
lasts forever and adds to your wealth and independence. Every foot of 
your land will be more than gold and it is employment which improves 
your health and strength. The year your cousin Richard Goldsmith 
spent on those lots, saved his life, and I feel assured that if either of you 
were confined to any sedentary employment you would lose your health. 
May the Almighty God grant that I may be long spared to look after you 
and help you on my dear children, and may the good and merciful God 
keep you straight in the paths of rectitude and holiness through the blessed 
propitiation our Redeemer and loving Saviour Jesus Christ. I should like 
some way of writing to you in the future so that your letters may not fall 
into your father's hands and although I always wish you to be kind to him 
I think it will be best for him and you, that you should act and manage 



life's REAL ROMAUCE. 47 

for yourselves, otherwise if he goes on as he has done for the last fourteen 
years you will be in want of the common necessaries of life, if anything 
should happen to me. I feel certain that you will make that a 
valuable farm, but mind do not strain or over work yourselves, only go on 
steadily, surely, but diligently and always rely on the unutterable love of 
your true friend Jerrold. 

October nth. — Rose at half past five, milked the cow and swept 
and dusted our room. Finished hoeing out the potatoes, have about seventy- 
five bushels in all. Ethel came and borrowed some tea. Sarah took tea 
with us. Jerrold Burke has been sentenced to four years imprisonment for 
beating an old peddler with a club in a lonely road. P^ank Dodsley, Tom 
and myself swamped eight cords in one da>, and made the roads. Father 
had the cow milked and tea ready on our return, liark cannot be swamp- 
ed in wet weather, as it spoils the bright yellow color of it and covers it 
with spots of mildew. 

Sunday 15th. — Posted a letter to Uucle Richard and his daughter 
Angelica, in England. Went to church on horseback, when I came back, 
Ethel and Sarah were practising riding, Philip enlivened the evening by 
playing sacred music on his violin. I read Rifle Rangers, by Magratt. 

17th. — Went to a bee to raise Louis Brodeur's house, and make 
it higher. Used long poles as levers to raise it. Went to school in the 
evening, Jonothan J. is teaching it. For several days after this chopped 
cordwood on our lots. 

20th. — We hewed pieces of cedar to put under the tombstone that has 
arrived. Asked father to lend us fifty cents to hire a man to help us to 
put up the tombstone, but he refused. Uncle Herbert, Tom, Jonathan 
and myself went to Aston, found that the other headstones were placed on 
a stone foundation. I went to the mines and got permission from the 
manager to get a load of stone. We got a stone mason and four men to 
help us to put it up. Borrowed an old pot at W'illoughby's, to melt the 
cement with which to cement the headstone into the block of granite. Re- 
ceived a letter from Uncle Richard. 

My Df:ar Boys: — We received your welcome letters. I think you are 
right in not coming in till the fall ploughing is done. As soon as that is 
over we expect you both in town, as we think a little change will do you 
good. When you decide to come in, drop me a line. We were glad to 
hear that Uncle Jerrold's steamer arrived safely. I suppose in about a 
fortnight we will get aletter from him. I have drawn out a plan ofabarn 
but will show it to you when you come in. I do not think it would be 
wise to build it until you are living on the lot, as during your absence it 
might be liable to a number of accidents. Your Uncle Herbert left on 
Wednesday, we all thought him very much altered, he looked very much 
older when here. Pie scarcely ever spoke. I fear he is greatly troubled 
about his daughter. It is a sad thing and I think more seriously of it than 
they are disposed to do. I hope with God's blessing, she will see the 
necessity of going back to her husband again. I explained to Uncle Her- 
bert how the headstone should be put down, I think it will be better not 
to have the fence too high, and if cedars will grow there, a nice cedar 
hedge would look better than a rail fence. If it is fine I shall expect you 
in on the thirty-first, but as much sooner as you like. I would advise you 
to keep a book of wants and get a three months' supply when you come to 



48 life's real romance. 

town, bring in a list of your debts, also bring in any clothes that you may 
want mending and I will get them done for you. Bring in the zinc trunk 
with you for your clothes, and a box for groceries, that is if you decide on 
getting them here. Have you got the size of the lot from the church 
wardens, if not sixty by twelve would do. Good night, with love to your 
father in which we all unite. Your affectionate uncle, 

R. J. Goldsmith. 

'' While passing the station saw a notice asking tenders for a contract 
to supply the copper mines with two thousand cords of wood. Wrote to 
Mr. Hogarth and uncle Richard. 

25lh. — Ploughed at G's., all day. We are changing time with them 
which they are to pay back in the winter by helping us to draw bark. Sold 
a sheep to Vincent's. The Goldsmiths have taken the contract to furnish 
the copper mines, with second growth, ash timber to make pick handles. 
Tom had a dispute with father. The G's., have hired Mr. Grant's thresh- 
ing machine. Tom and I went to Aston next day. Received a letters from 
uncle Richard saying if we wanted any money, to let him know, also that 
they were expecting us in everyday. Started for Montreal at half past one 
on a mixed train, reached Montreal at seven. Arrived at uncle's just in 
time for tea. Received a warm welcome from Mabel, Richard, my uncle 
and aunt; cousin Clifford was not in at the time, had gone to see his cousin 
Algeron Hayston start for Hamilton, where he had received an appoint- 
ment in a bank. Had a long talk about our future prospects and retired 
late. Next day Tom Clifford and myself went up McGill College avenue, 
saw the new reservoir and ascended to the top of the mountain. We went 
to Fletcher's field to see a volunter review. Next day Clifford went to 
school. Uncle Richard, Tom and myself had a talk on business and settled 
our accounts. In the afternoon I played La Crosse with Richard and 
Clifford; also went to the museum, where there is a fine collection of stuffed 
birds, fishes,' and animals, also warlike weapons, minerals and other inter- 
esting specimens, among which was an Egyptian mummy. In the evening 
played Chess and Draughts. 

November 3rd. — ^Richard vaccinated Tom and myself. After dinner 
went for a drive with uncle Richard; saw the Court house, Nelson's 
mounment, the Drill shed, the wharf, and all the ships. Drove up Beaver 
hall hill and saw Hotel de Dieu, a Catholic hospital of immense size, but 
little architectural beauty; drove to Mount Royal cemetery, its numberless 
stately avenues, its great extent, densely covered with fine monuments, 
cedar hedges and ornamental fences, the bright green closely clipped 
grass, with gravel walks winding in all directions, justly entitled it to be 
called a beautiful city of the dead. I was thoroughly disgusted with the 
Catholic cemetery, its monotonous rows of crosses, and the shabby appear- 
ance of it in general. Next day Tom and myself went for a walk; saw 
the Windsor hotel, also St. Peter's, which is in the course of erection, said to 
be exactly one quarter the size of St. Peter's at Rome and on the same plan. 
On the fourth we returned, father met us at the station. On Sunday went 
to church spoke to Mr. Meredith about the size of the lot in the cemetery, 
took dinner at Wheeler's. 

On Monday planted a cedar hedge around my dear mother's grave, also 
some fine trees at the corners of the lot. Tom, Frank Dodsley and myself, 
with our horses, changed time with Gs., at threshing with the new 



LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 49 



threshing machine Grant has invented, which, however, is not a success, 
as it takes too much power to work as much asei^ht horses, and is always 
breaking. Some days only threshed enough to feed the horses. Napoleon 
wanted to get work from us, but would not work for orders on stores. 
13th. — Went to Aston, posted letters to uncle Richard, Jerrold and 
Mrs. Sherman. Beceived a letter from Mr. Sherman. 

My Dear Tom: — I received your letter yesterday. Mr. Sherman 
cannot come to help to divide his half of the hay on our lot, but says you 
can give him what you think the hay is worth. The taxes are out; would 
greally oblige us if you would pay them out of the money you have to give 
us for the hay, the rest of the money can stay with you till the lines are 
drawn in the spring. Dear Tom, we are all very sorry for your loss, in 
losing your dear mother. You lost at once mother, companion and friend. 
I can imagine how lonesome and lost your home looks, without her. Arthur 
and you must try and follow her teachings to be to each other what your 
dear mother would have liked you to be, had she stayed with yo«. Tell 
Mr. Howard we were all very sorry and sympathize with him. I tried to 
write to him, when I heard of your dear mother's death, but felt so bad 
that I could not find the right words to say; everything I wrote seemed so 
cold and unmeaning, to the great grief I knew yuu must be suffering, that I 
could not send the letter, but I assure you I thought and i)rayed for you 
all. As soon as I heard of your dear mother's death, I wrote to Sarah. 
She felt very bad about it, and was so sorry that she had not been able to 
see her when she was at your place last spring. When she was in Montreal 
she called at Dr. Goldsmith's, hoping to see your dear mother there, but 
she had left for the station a few minutes before. I thought to write you a 
longer letter, but the man is waiting to lake it to the station. Some of us 
expect to be in Preston sometime after New Years, and will try and g© to 
Aston to see you. The factory here has not been working since last May. 
With love to your father, Arthur and yourself, I am, dear Tom, your 
affectionate friend, Elizabeth Sherman. 

St. Augustl\, November, 1876. 

Fredicton, New Brunswick. 

My Dear Tom:— I was much surpiised and grieved to receive your 
letter informing me of the death of your dear mother. Her death must 
have been a great loss to you, and I feel sure she was one of the best of 
mothers. I remember very distinctly our meeting in the cars and how 
much I was impressed by her conversation, I always hoped to meet her 
again and become better acquainted, but that can never be in this world; 
she is now where all is blessedness and light; I feel that she was a sincere 
Christian, and that her influence on all who came within her reach, must 
have been good. I would like to hear from you whether you are still in the 
telegraph office and what your intentions are in future. With thesincerest 
of sympathy, believe me, your friend truly A. J. Robertson. 

Many of my evenings at this time I foolishly spent in playing drafts 
with Louis Brodeur. Frank Dodsley since my dear mother's death is 
learning fast to swear from the boys in the neighborhood and often tells 
objects and beings, when they displease him to go to a region where the 
temperature is said to be hotter than that of the hottest tropical country. 

i6th. — Threshed all day at G's. Threshed twelvebushels in the forenoon 

7 



50 life's real romance. 



and forty in the afternoon, Measured half an acre that ^Nlagloire Vincent 
chopped, there not being quite half an acre, gave him an order on Mons- 
son's store for two dollars and thirty cents. On the afternoon of the 
eighteenth went to Aston, saw the bishop of St. Jean and Charlesbourg; on 
arriving they were met by the mayor and a large crowd of people who con- 
ducted them to a covered carriage. All the windows along iMain Street 
were liluminated with candles. Delage had a large bonfire made by 
burning tar in a barrel. On passing Roussin's store a salute was fired; on 
reaching Moussear's store the band began to play. Went to Richford, 
paid our bill at McNeill's store, slept at McNeil's. Went to hear mass, next 
morning at Mrs. McN's. request, heard a combination of French and 
Latin, also the auctioneering of hens and geese at the church, besides the 
sale of other articles, also heard miserable music. One day while walking 
past Sherman's house met Edmond Racine with a rope on hisarm; suspect- 
ed that he was going to steal hay, as we had missed a great deal already, 
continued walking on as if going home and then returned and watched him. 
Saw him wrench a board off the window and go in, I followed and jumped 
in brandishing my axe; he yelled "Mon Dieu" and rushed past me and 
escaped. The same night I slept inthehouse on the hay with Carlo, our 
dog. Next morning I found Racine's cow and horse grazing on the after 
grass. Brought them up to their house and told them to keep them at 
home or thev would have to pay trespass. It injures a meadow to allow 
animals to graze upon it, for the "after grass" protects the roots from the 
frost. On the twenty-fifth decided to have (}s., thrash our grain with 
Grant's mill, also bargained with Vincents to cut and skin one hundred 
saw logs. Also received privilege from Vincent, to cut all the hemlock 
logs we wished on his lot in the third range close to the county of Su.ssex, 
Commenced playing drafts French way, with Louis Brodeur; there are sixty 
men instead of twenty-four. The men take backwards and the king has 
exactly the bishop's move in Chess, excepting that it jumps over a man 
when it takes it into an empty square on the other side. 

26th. — Went to church. Rev. L. C. Willoughby sick, Mr. Meredith 
read a sermon. Dined at Wheeler's. Read the Vicar of Wakefield. The 
roads are rough, the ruts made in wet weather are frozen. Had a dispute 
with father, he wanted to charge us for Frank's time, who is a mere boy, 
which we thought ridiculous, as we were providing the house with all the 
necessities it required. Father said he would write to both our uncles and 
stop our working on our lots. During these days we cut saw logs. One 
has to be careful and choose sound timber without too many knots in it. 
We sawed on an average, forty-one logs a da5', but there was much waste 
in timber. Under favorable circumstances, somewhat more than this can 
be cut. 

December 4th. — Tom and I cut one and three quarters cords of wood 
which is fair work for us under the circumstances. 

7th. — Gave Joe Vincent the job of cutting twenty cords of cord wood 
at fifty cents a cord, also to pile all the brush and cut any timber that would 
not split into twelve feet lengths. Nalopeon wanted to sell us his piece of 
land thirty acres, eight cleared, a log house on it for one hundred and 
thirty dollars. Father proposed to sell his place for seven hundred dollars, 
and buy Napoleon's; I however, thought we had enough on our hands for 
the present. Tom brought the news that Mousseanhad tailed. Our usual 



life's real romance. 51 



diet these times was bread and milk, with sometimes potatoes, herring and 
occasionally a little meat. One evening I called at Carmichael's, the old 
woman was setting the table, when I entered, but stopped immediately. I 
thought it very mean, and determined to tire them out, read novels till 
eleven o'clock. At a quarter to twelve Mrs, C. finished the operation and 
asked me to supper; I refused and went home, decided that I had over- 
taxed a neighbor's hospitality which to say the least is not unbounded. 
Grant's mill was a failure, the belling was always breaking, \yhen we de- 
cided not to have "our grain finished by it, as we could have it thrashed 
cheaper by fiail, Philip and Walter were very angry, and challenged me 
out to fight, which I refused to do. (George Barclay came to see us from 
East Hastings. Herbert C, called at the post for us, received a letter 
from Mr. Hogarth. 

My Dear Friends: — I duly received your kmd letters announcing 
your dear mother's death; it was sad news indeed, and grieved my heart to 
read it. Believe me my dear friends, I sympathize with you for the loss you 
have sustained, you have lost the best of friends, a good kind loving mother 
and no friend however dear, can ever take her place; but kind words ex- 
pressed by sympathizing hearts will help you to bear up under the attliction. 
Your kind relations are with you, and will help you through. I can 
imagime how lonely you feel in the back woods; I should think you would 
prefer town now. I would like to come and see you and cheer you up as 
little, but that cannot be, so I hope these few lines will convince you of 
the sincerity of my feelings. I would have written sooner, but was preven- 
ted by an accident that happened to me three weeks ago, from the effect 
of which,, I am still laid up in bed, A team ran away with me, I had two 
ladies in the carriage with me, we were all three thrown out, I got my leg 
under the wheel and got it badly mashed. One of the ladies fell on to my 
back, and tried the strength of my back bone, which stove it in wonderfully 
well, which kind of makes me think that whale bone composes part of my 
frame. This lady did not get hurt which is no wonder, considering where 
she lit. The other was more unfortunate, she struck her shoulder on the 
graund and dislocated it, for which I was very sorry. The whole cause 
of the accident was a rotten pole strap, which broke, going down a hill and 
let the carriage on to the horse &c. The boss thought they were good 
enough for a while, yet begrudged five dollars for new ones. Now the 
affair may cost him a thousand dollars. He is honorable enough anyway 
to take the blame on himself, and treats me very well. Likely by next 
spring I may make a change again. With love to all, and wishing you all 
a merry Christmas, your sincere friend, Fritz HociAR th. 

13th. — Rose at five, breakfasted at six. Andre Larivere came to get 
us to cut shingle wood into blocks ready for splitting. We give him one 
dollar for cutting the shingle wood with us, after which he is to make 
twenty-four casesof shingles at eighty cents per case. A case contains one 
thousand shingles, averaging four inches in width, and fifteen inches long, 
which will cover ten feet square. We tried to get pine timber but could 
not get any that would split well enough for most of the best pine timber 
has been taken from these parts. Andre can tell to a nicety, whether a 
tree will split well or not, by looking at its bark. The roails are very bad, 
several habitants who attempted to draw wood to Aston, had to unload part 



52 life's real romance. 



of their roads at bare places in the road. Next day, drew four loads of hay 
from Mr. Sherman's house to father's barn. Sold twenty cords of tamarac 
to Cicero Vincent, at ten cents a cord, that is the cut of it; he wanted us to 
trade a mare we had for one of his, if we wonld give him twenty dollars' 
boot. In the evening I wrote a letter to uncle Richard, Tom wrote to 
aunt Maria, fourth eldest sister of my father, an old maid, who lives with 
uncle Timothy at Waterford; we also wrote to uncle Jerrold, also to Mr. 
Hogarth. 

My Dear Mr. Hogarth:^! received your welcome letter, and was 
sorry to hear of the accident that happened to you, but hope that you will 
be well again in a few weeks. Forget whether I told you in a previous 
letter, that we bought thirty-four and thirty-five from our uncle Richard, 
for twelve hundred dollars, that is three dollars an acre. Now 
that our dear mother is gone, we will, of course go and live on the 
lots. Firstly on account of the distance, a mile and a half to go to and 
from work, and other reasons of which you well know. We have prepared 
for building and have one hundred saw logs ready for the saw mill, which 
will give us about twenty thousand feet of lumber, which will be sufificienl 
for the house and barn. We are also having twenty-four cases of shingles 
made to roof them. We have about ten acres cleared already, and sown 
with hay, and about twelve more chopped ready to log. We fortunately 
have a double sleigh, wagon, double harness and one horse to start with, 
and two good uncles to back us in the bargain. We will try our luck at 
farming for a few years anyhow, and I am pretty certain it will be a success 
as thirty-four and thirty-five have very few stones on them. At present we 
are chopping cord wood on the land we have cleared. Cord wood is very 
cheap here, at present only one seventy five a cord, but still it pays better 
than to burn it on the land. Although it is the sixteenth of December we 
have not had any snow of consequence as yet. I hope if you leave your 
place you will get another good one, or that if you start in busfness you 
will succeed. I suppose California is a grand country and has a splendid 
c\ifma.te. I wish I owned a few hundred acres there. Father is a little 
more industrious of late as he sees that he will have to trust to his own 
efforts to develop the resources of his farm. I regret to say that duty alone 
is the only incentive that governs all our actions towards him, and makes us 
avoid as much as we can having disputes with him. I hope when you come 
and see us you will find our farm and buildings in a better condition than you 
found the home farm in the spring of eighteen seventy. Mind before you 
leave your place, that you write to us and send us your new address. 
H ping you will spend a very happy Christmas, I remain, with much love 
your affectionate friend, Arthur N. Howard. 

Received a letter from uncle Jerrold. 

London, December 2nd. 
My Dear Tom AND Arthur: — I have read with much pleasure, 
your kind and nice letters, and while I receive with great satisfaction any- 
thing connected with your interests, which are very dear to me, I am sorry 
that my advice to you from want of knowledge and experience cannot be 
of so much use as your uncle Richard's, to him I have for a time given over 
all the authority of my tutorship, for three good reasons. First because he 



T-IFe's rem, RO^fANCE. 53 



has more sense than I have, secondly he has had more experience in the 
line of life in which you are placed and thirdly because he is on the spot 
and can act quickly. As far as I can judge it will be well if possible to 
keep on with your father and assist him in every rational and useful work, 
At the same time both for his sake, and your own, you must not be diverted 
or turned aside by any mortal from making your four hundred acres fit and 
able to keep you both; in this above all thini^s be united and firm, and 
under God's blessed help I shall be enabled to see you with my assistance 
become independent. How glad I shall be to come and see you, on your 
own cleared farm, and bring your aunt and your cousin Rupert with me, 
and spend a happy time together; please God it will come yet. but now 
speaking as a business man I cannot help saying that as yet up to eighteen 
seventy-five I afti disappointed in seeing such a ragged and ill conditioned 
farm as your father's after so much time and money being spent on it. I 
hope that I am not unjust in giving this opinion and that I do it in error, 
in ignorance of what I am talking about; but still so it seems to me. At 
all events my dear good boys I am sure you will do all you can and never 
mind the rest. Leave all to a merciful God who will take care of you and 
enable me to help you and be your friend and uncle in the place of 
your dear good mother, whose earnest prayers to heaven for you, all her 
whole life, her loving and devoted life to her dear children, will be heard. 
Mind you keep yourselves warm, and get plenty of blankets out from 
Montreal. Do not remain in your wet clothes after work, if ever so tired 
change them. If you want any thing, do not be mealy mouthed or doubt- 
ful, but ask uncle Richard for it like men, and he will do it. Ciod bless 
you, and make you good, united and happy, my dear nephews, is the 
wish of your loving uncle Jerrold. I am glad to find uncle Richard has 
• invited you to his house, of course one of you will have to go to Montreal 
every three months, to receive your quarterly allowance. Go and see my 
brother Herbert and my neice Sarah, and give them and Mrs. G., my love. 
I will write to them soon. I need not, I hope, warn you against all quar- 
reling, ill will or neglect of duty towards your neighbors. Remember 
that one evening can often ruin a man, where one hundred friends cannot 
save him; and also remember that the greatest cowards, and the worst 
and vilest men, are the most quarrelsome, and the most ready to take 
offense: to be angry and revengeful is devilish, to be kind, patient, slow 
to anger and good to those that hale you, is Godlike. 

Went to Mr. Willoughby's, had quite a confab with Mrs. W., about 
my cousin .Sarah leaving her husband, Timothy Dean, for such a trifling 
cause, that of being over worked which is often the unfortunate female's 
lot on large farms. In my opinion, she ac'ed in a spirited manner, in not 
becoming a slave, when her husband had ample means to hire a servant. 
To be industrious and economical is all very well, but to save a hundred 
dollars a year through over taxed energies and a ruined constitution is to 
say the least a most false economy, as no doubt many farmers wives 
throughout the country find to their cost, when it is too late. As I was 
passing Mrs. Wheeler's I noticed their chimney on fire, told her of it, she 
very composedly sent her son Justin for a pail of water, and put out the 
fire. This woman is a model wife and house keeper, although her husband 
receives but small wages: they live in a cosy little villa, which is beautifully 
furnished, inside every nook and corner of it showing the artistic and re- 



54 LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 

fined taste of his wife, who is cook, housekeeper, housemaid and dress 
maker all combined, yet although she does all this work, and is rearing a 
large family of six children, she is always neat and well dressed and ready 
to receive guests. Truly happy are the men who are blessed with such 
wives as these. Came home like the wind, and was nearly frozen, it was 
so cold. Happened to see a letter from Aunt Maria to father, amongst 
waste paper and was mean enough to read it. He has been writing to 
her, saying how mean it was of us to leave him to go to our lots. Consider- 
ing that she was his favorite sister, her answer somewhat surprised me. 
She said she hoped he was not dreaming his time away, as he had done in 
London. Was nearly smothered by smoke last night, by the falling of the 
damper. Next day did not go to church, but read the Witness and 
Chambers Magazine. Sold Jonathan G. a few cords of dry wood at 
seventy-five cents a cord, drew several cords of dry and green wood to 
Aston village during the week; a cord of green wood is ample -load for an 
average team of horses, and the roads must be good at that. In the latter 
part of the week drew bark, average load, one cord and twenty feet. It 
greatly tires a man's patience when the roads are bad, sometimes part of 
the sleigh or harness will break, or the load upset where the road is one 
sided, which is enough to try any man's temper, especially in cold weather 
to stand for over an hour in the biting wind reloading the load. Went to 
church on Sunday. Mabel Willoughby has returned from an academy, 
for the Christmas holidays. I met Florence Meredith, she told me that 
her mother returned from Scotland this morning. Tom went tochurch on 
Christmas day and dined at Mr. Willoughby's. I dined at G's.; had 
roast beef, goose, plum pudding with sauce, potatoes, bread, tea, butter, 
and sugar. Went with my aunt Sarah, Jonathan, Walter and Ethel to 
Devlin's in the evening; the> sang songs and told riddles till twelve o'clock. 
Returned home by one o'clock. I drew bark and w^ood the rest of the 
week. For some loads 1 got from six to seven dollars. Tried to sell Mr. 
Meredith wood, but found that he had his supply. Uncle Richard and 
Clifford arrived from Montreal on. the twenty-ninth, they drove out with 
horse and sleigh, they stayed at G's. I could not take a load to Aston 
next morning as it had snowed nearly two feet during the night. Chelton 
paid me twenty in gold for bark I had drawn to him in the afternoon: I 
went to Aston with uncle Richard and Herbert, who went to inquire 
about the strike of the railroad men on the Great Central Railway. We 
spent New Year's eve at G's. On New Years we visited our neighbors 
which we have not omitted to do since we were little children; then we 
used to try who could pay the visit the earliest, sometimes paying the visit 
as early as four o'clock, a. m. Mrs. C. treated us to candy, plum cake 
and tea. Uncle and Clifford, returned to Montreal in the afternoon, set 
the sawing machine, and put logs in a rollaway, ready for sawing but there 
was too much snow to get at the logs, so we gave up the idea, and will 
have to chop our stove wood. 

FRAGMENTARY VERSES. 

Who is it that sees a summer breeze, And the brilliant sun sending down 

A rustling in the branches of the trees, Its warmth and heat, 

And the feathered songsters on high To make the earth proiiuce replete 

Warbling forth their happiest melody, All that's required for man and beast; 



life's real romance. 

A nd the same heat doth lift from Ocean bed But never give a thought or a care 



55 



The w'aters there by rivers led, 



AV)OUt the next vk^orld or for it prepare. 



And in a light and vapory form Some there are who waste their tin.e 

Are carried oer earth by summer's storm, \\ Jiose greatest gods f^ garments fine 

And on fields of .hining grain Of naught they think but their o^^ " ^e K. 

Are made discharize bv atmospheric change And how to spend their enormous wealth 

And doubts whether this is all by chance Of which they never earn a dollar, 

Or by a Being great and divine created. Foi they no trade or profession follow, 

■^ ^ Oood they are to stro'.l the streets 

Who is there on board a ship A nd with gay friends, costly dinners eat. 

Baffled by the the approaching storm, Or float about in the giddy dance. 

That sees the masts all torn and split And try some fair one to entrance 

By the fury of the storm. With their stylish dashing ways 

And sees the decks all rent and torn They sometimes win one by a chance 

By lightning's vivid force, A flirt, a giddy one, a gay 

And hears the captain's trembling cry Who like themselves, are of no use 

My men we are all lost. Bnt waste their time in a useless way. 
And amidst the groans, 

And shrieks and moans, The wind was bleak. 

Cry out there is no God. Tl]^ rain was cold; 

The trees and branches creaked, 

Many there are who in this world live, And some there fell that were too old 

Who'enjoy all the pleasures that it can give, As the storm against tnem beat. 

While in Montreal I visited Joe Beef's, place, a saloonkeeper who 
has acquired much notoriety from his eccentricity. The floor is strewn 
with sawdust; the whole house has a dark and gloomy appearance, with 
all sorts of rubbish scattered about in every direction. Close behnid the 
bar was a human skeleton, which had a horrible appearance. The parlor 
has a piano in it, and is free to all temperance lecturers and preachers 
to hold their meetings in. He is very liberal to the poor, and has slices 
of beef and bread on the counter at the bar to give away to the poer 
who frequent his saloon. But all this is to attract custom, as are also the 
bears and deer he keeps. While in the bar-rcom a man dropped down as 
if dead, striking his head with fearful violence against a post. Joe Beef 
came quickly from behind the bar armed with a drunkard's restoratives, 
namely: red pepper and vinegar, which he rubbed with brutal violence 
over the poor man's face. The poor wretch writhed, grcmned and ground 
his teeth. I never saw a face so haggard or marked with such hopeless 
despair; it was a sight that would have more influence on a man than a 
dozen temperance lectures. In the dining room the woman that waited 
on the table had the appearance as if she had melted blubber on a 
whaling ship for the last half century without changing her clothes—men 
must truly not be very fastidious to eat in such a place. And it is an 
outrage on the Christianity and civilization ol any Christian nation to 
allow such places to exist openly in their midst. 

In the evening I met the inebriate at Boneventure railway station and 
related to him the scene in the morning. He showed no shame; he ap- 
peared to be too far gone for that, and replied: 

"Yes, stranger, I took too much for my good this morning, but I 
must have drink, I cannot live without it. Please lend me twenty-Hve 
cents, whi(?h I will return when I arrive at Troy, New York, where I 
reside.' • 

I replied that I would no more think of lending him money to buy 
whisky with than I would to buy arsenic; for both articles are much abused 
and used by men as a means of self-destruction. "Can't you see that this 



56 ■ LIFE S REAL ROMANCE, 



cursed drink will destroy you body and soul. However, before the train 
leaves, we will have time to take some supper," 

After supper he asked for "just enough to buy one glass with," I 
grew indignant anfl said: 

"Don't you sec you are fast sinking into a pitiable and desperate 
condition. Be a man. It is not too laie yet to save yourself from ruin 
and misery. You have brains and intelligence — use them for the purpose 
God gave them to you for. Be noble and courageous and resist and 
destroy this burning desire for drink. Never let yourself be seen again 
in the despical)le condition you w^ere seen this morning. Resolve from 
this time forth to cast otif" forever the shackles of the slavery of drink. Do 
not stay over night in Montreal; leave for Troy Ijy the next train. You 
say you have friends there; go there to them and state your case; they will 
not refuse you their assistance. Keep even from the sight of drink. 
Have some fixed aim or object in view; concentrate on this object all your 
energy and talents. You will find that this will give you an interest in 
life and divert your thoughts from drink. And always keep before you 
that the noblest and grandest heroes are those who conquer themselves and 
rise from the lowest depths and become useful and honorable members of 
society." 

That silken thread does stronger srovv, Resolutions each day he does make, 

It fills his heart with bitter woe. And the day after does them break. 

Why to that treacherous pleasure did he bow, Shall hc'for its deceitful pleasure 

That holds his soul in bondage now. Lose honor, friends? No he shall never. 

At first 'twas pleasing to the eye, He'll crush the demons from his heart 

But with such pleasures dangers lie And from its guilty pleasures part. 

And if on man it once has power, But alas, ere a few weeks pass away 

Is to that man a fatal hour. In the mire deeper does he lay. 

Its cruel meshes he ne'er can break His heart is then filled with despair 

Eternal misery is his fate. His life's mistake he cannot repair. 

His noble thoughts are by it crushed, Man's heart was filled with such anguish 

1 he voice of conscience by it hushed As in dsspair he then does lauguish; 

And all that is noble bows to the dust. Death he would with pleasure greet 

He is as iron covered with rust If his Creator he had not to meet; 

It marks his goodly brow with shame. Too wicked he is to die, 

No longer honored is his name. Too wretched for lo live, 

His face though once t'was bright and fair This is the way that sin rewards 

Is marked by its corroding care. Those who in her pleasures live. 

A TEETOTALER'S VIEW OF THE LIQUOR QUESTION. 

From the wheattield there now came a rat- Not satisfied with his deadly sport, 

tling sound. l-ight foreign wines he must import, 
Farmer Jones with his reaper at work I With which to coax the novice in, 

found. Then a reeling drunkard make of him. 

He said wheat this year will not pay, I once remember the town of C, 

But 1 am in luck, I am glad to say From strong drink s curse 'twas almost free. 

For I sold my wheat three weeks ago But now on olmost every street 

Before the price went down so low. His saloons and victims you may meet; 

T'was to the brewer Mr. B. Some with their fine gold lettered sign 

A barrel of ale he gave me free. Where gentlemen may pass their time. 

I said 1 am sorry you sold your wheat And in its parlors cool and nice. 

To such a miserable cheat; There sip their liquors cooled iTi ice. 
For most of the beggars in the town of C, More harm these do than all the rest. 

Are caused by this same Mr. B. For liere it is no drunkard's nest; 

Many begin with his fine stout ale Tis merely a preparing place 

And end "their days in common jail; Drunkards to make of the coming race. 

Many who drank his fine old rye What a very kind man is Mr. B., 

in drunkard's graves dishonored lie. With all young men he is no free; 



LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 



57 



A billiard table he exi)ressly bought, 

Of young men's pleasure, he only thought. 

It would be so nice of a rainy day 

To meet together and at billiards play. 

Alas how oft with winning smile, 

He thus does tine young men beguile 

To take a light drink at his bar. 

Or smoke with him a choice cigar. 

He slippery arguments does prepare. 

As innocent youths he does ensnare. 

\oung gents, he oft to them would say 

I have been a drinker for many a day 

Now liquor with benelit a man may use. 

But he its good should not abuse. 

A great many people of this place 

Abuse me almost to my face, 

And say I am going to ruin their son 

Because I give him a little fun. 

Now I don't like to see a young man wild. 

But he should not be ruled as a little child; 

Gents, I'll tell you the truth, and to say the 

least. 
Some men have appetites worse than a beast; 
Now such men as these I do abhor, 
May they never enter my bar room door. 
A man who cannot himself control 
Does not deserve man's name to own. 
But these temperance fanatics always cry, 
Those who touch liquor will surely die. 
Just look at Squire Jones 
He has never passed the temperate zones; 
Altho' he has drank for many a year. 
His wife never shed for him a tear. 
A better father or husband cannot be found. 
Or a man with better judgment sound; 
He is a member of our church, I say 
And in church almost every Sabbath day 
He is the best farmer in the place. 
No crops or time by him waste 
And he has thousands in the bank, 
Altho' twenty years he has drank. 
Come! Come I cries Harry Hall, 
We'll drink a bumper, one and all 
To the great and jolly Squire Jones, 
Who never passed the temperate zones. 
Then j\lr. B., with smile most bland. 
To them the poisoned cup did hand. 
'Twas not vile whisky they drank there, 
As some poor man bound by drink's snare; 
'Twas sparkling transparent champagne. 
That quickened the blood of many a vein. 
As I these words had said, 
His face with anger had flushed red. 
He quickly caught me by the arm 
No joke from a man raised on a farm; 
His grip 'twas like an iron vice, 
I felt it far from being nice. 
He in a voice of thunder spoke. 
Which in me sleeping terrors woke. 
Said ipake to me an apology now 
Or I'll throw you in yonder slough, 
Mr. Jones, I unto him did say, 
Beg pardon if I have offended in any way, 
No insult 1 ever meant to you, 
I only said what was too true; 
But before on this subject we further speak, 
Allow me to inform you that my arm is weak 



And that your most affectionate grasp. 

You'll now have the kindness to unclasp. 

For the very marrow in my arm's bone 

Does your arm's zeal and fervor own. 

My hand by friends was often clasped 

With friendship's pressure firm, 

But I ne'er yet got such grasp 

As from yoiu' friendship stern; 

But as my arm is now released, 

1 will to you explain 

A subject which to say the least 

Will cause us both great pain: 

'Twas yesterday about midday, 

1 walked through the town of C, 

And there I met poor William J., 

.'\s drunk, as drunk could be. 

He was a handsome fellow^ once 

His mother's pride and hope 

But cursed drink that beauty took; 

'Tis now a horrid sight, 

His eyas they are all bleared. 

His face 'tis nearly red, 

By him his ' lod no longer feared, 

.And conscience voice just dead. 

Along the streets he reeling went 

Singing a drunken air, 

His aged mother with grief bent, 

At the doorway met him there; 

111 ne'er forget that look of woe 

On tliat poor mother's face. 

As towards her, her only son did go 

With a drunken staggering pace. 

His face, poor fellow, it grew sad, 

.\s he gazed on his mother's face. 

Still in his heart, he some good had, 

Which drink had not effaced. 

But ere he could her pardon ask, 

She a ciy of anguish gave 

And sank upon the dark green grass. 

Lost to all that ever she had loved 

On this side of the grave. 

Poor J., to his senses quickly came, 

And o'er his mother wept; 

Feelings there now o'er his heart came, 

Which long before had slept. 

But even suppose he does reform. 

And break the demon's power. 

His mother he never can restore. 

Or childhood's pure lost hour. 

He once the blessing had of health, 

But now has it no longer. 

Drink took both it and all his wealth. 

We on this case may ponder; 

1 regret calling Mr. B., a cheat 

But still you cannot wonder 

For cases like this we often meet, 

Of which he is the founder. 

Now Mr. Jones 1 do not wish to be rude. 

Or in your affairs myself intrude. 

But I want your influence which is great. 

And in the town of C, has considerable 

weight. 
To crush from it drink's fearful vice, 
.\nd close those fine cool barrooms nice. 
Also these low vile haunts of sin. 
Where the drunkard staggers for his gin; 
And sometimes pawns his poor wife's cloak. 



58 LIFES REAL ROMANCE. 



For brandy wherewith himself to soak; dm tliis man e'er see heaven's bhss? 

h e his poor wife and children in misery leavesWe all know the words the Bible says, 

T ley only blows and cuffs from him receive, Enter heaven a drunkard never may. 

How frightful is a drunkard's end, A fearful crime is it not then 

As with contortions he does bend. Drunkards to make our fellow men. 

His room is filled with fearful shrieks, A felon's crime can be no worse. 

As with gleaming eyes he round it leaps. Of man he only kills the first, 

He suffers from delirium tremens, But he that his neighbor with drink fills, 

The room to him is full of demons. Does soul and body by it kill. 

Oh! what a frightful death is this I 

A MODERATE DRINKER'S VIEW OF THE LIQUOR QUESTION. 

In my opinion the evils from the use of spirituous liquors are greatly 
exaggerated. Some over zealous prohibitionists assert that over two- 
thirds of the crime of this country is caused by the use of spirituous 
liquors. This estimate is utterly incorrect, as any one can see who reads 
the records of crime in the daily papers, and places against each cause its 
just amount of crime. Liquor is by many unjustly charged with crimes 
that are the fruits of ignorance, superstition and those evil passions that 
some men allow to gain a supremacy in their hearts. If wicked men take 
their own lives or the lives of their fellow men by the use of poison, 
would it be wise or right to deprive the rest of mankind of the benefits 
derived from its proper use, even though it was a source of destruction to 
thousands of depraved men? The poison is not the real cause of all the 
suicides by it in the world. It comes from many other causes — the chief 
cause being a want of education and moral training in childhood. , Every- 
thing that has been made is for man's use; he, as lord of creation, must 
be taught to maintain his supremacy over all things and not to act in a 
cowardly manner, throwing away the gifts of God and man's invention 
because a few of his fellow men abuse them, and bring ruin on themselves. 
Are we to deprive ourselves of the benefits of commerce because 
millions of men and money have been lost and swallowed up by the 
oceans of this earth V By no means. We will with patience and ingenuity 
conquer the perils of the deep and make all things l^ecome subservient to 
the wants and pleasures of mankind. Some extremists may advocate an 
almost primeval simplicity in dress and diet, and say that costly dress, 
food and liquors are not necessary for life. This to a certain extent is 
true, but when they assert that millions of money are wasted annually on 
costly liquors, men of moderation deny the statement and treat it with 
ridicule. Man can live on the plainest and coarsest of food, but why 
should he? If an Almighty Creator ordained that man should live on and 
use only what was absolutely necessary for his existence. He would never 
have created some of the most beautiful flowers, which are only useful 
inasmuch as they gratify the senses of smell and sight. What a dreary 
and monotonous world this would be if all the people were foolish enough 
to adopt the almost Spartan simplicity that some people advocate. Man 
would become merely a machine for accumidating wealth, and the greatest 
part of the elegant, delicious and costly luxuries that now exist would 
vanish from the face of the earth, and with thein the punch bowl and wine 
glass, no longer to be used as a delightful, exhilarating solace after fatigue 
and exposure to cold rainfalls ol autumn or the piercing winds of winter. 
What nonsense! We will not deprive our sense of taste of its greatest 
enjoyment because a few men make beasts of themselves. Let laws be 



LIKES REAL ROMANCE. 59 



made to make all men respect the dignity and honor of their manhood, and 
oblige them to do so. A certain amount of freedom must be allowed all men 
in countries that boast of political and religious liberty — in fact, perfect 
liberty ought to be given all men in everything that does not injure their 
fellow men or retard the progress of civilization. But when a man unfits 
himself for the citizenship of the nation, by committing slow suicide, and 
half starves and ill-treats his family, he should be looked upon as a pub- 
lic malefactor and punished accordingly by the government of his country. 
Prohibitionists bring this small ignoble class of men before the public as 
a proof of the necessity of prohibition, keeping in the background 
thousands of the noblest, wisest and cleverest men that have existed, and do 
exist, who have used and enjoyed spirituous liquors in all their forms and 
died at a good old age in no way lamenting or regretting their use of 
them. I am of the opinion that our legislators ought not to prohibit any- 
thing that exists, whether in its natural state or invented by men, that adds 
to man's pleasure and comfort even if some men do abuse those gifts and 
bring ruin on themselves, but legislate against their abuse and not against 
their use. If prohibition ever becomes a necessity and the government 
has to adopt it through the force of public opinion, it will be an eternal 
disgrace to the people of this nation and put their civilization to shame, 
placing them in a somewhat similar position to the naughty child whose 
parents have to lock the sweetmeats out of its way to keep it from 
childish excess and sickness. Man's civilization it is true is not yet com- 
plete, but surely if the savage beast of the forest through instinct can 
avoid poison and gluttony, man with his grand and mighty intellect can 
be so educated and civilized that he will in future years no longer give 
way to those excesses that cause so much ruin and misery on the earth. 
Just and severe laws should be made against men and women who in any way 
whatever retard the physical and mental development of the human race. 

A day 'tis yery short, Who in its promises trust; 

^ et still in it do thousands die But if they have a neighbor, 

Their pardons yet unsought; That is not of their class, 

Thousands are born in a day. Who lives by honest labor, 

I'hrough life they have yet to go. On the street they will him pass; 

Some of them good men make. And within their elegant drawing rooms 

Others by sin cast low; bright. 

Till our prisons and our jails For hours they will talk with one of their set, 

Through their deeds of crime. On business and fashions. 

Many an awful end attain W^hether this or that's right. 

In reward for their life time. For mere baubles of fashion, 

Their very souls fret. 

Many begin with splendid hopes. Sometimes they give a dollar or so. 

Have all they can desire. To spread the gospel's light; 
And end their days with a hangman's rope. Then the very next day to a jeweler's go 

With their souls in peril of eternal fire. And spend thousands on a tiny gem bright. 

Others love this world so nuich ]\lost of their precious time they spend 

They think not of the next; [n dancing and silly games. 

They have no sins to make them blush. Did < -od for this on earth man send. 

Their conscience is at rest. With his intelligent brains? 

To church they go on the Sabbath day. What a shame rich men to see 

They lead a holy life. Spend thousands on a trifling gem. 

With sinners class us not, ihey say. When deserts untilled lie from sea to sea. 

We lead a better life. And in ignorance perish his fellow men. 
They say the Bible is God's word, 

Its precepts true and just; The day is dark and cloudy 

Salvation it to all affords. Dark mists hang o'er the sky. 



LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 



The hay has shot ah-eady, 

And is nearly two feet high. 

The storm of yesterdaj- evening. 

All nature hati refreshed. 

The crop grew while men were sleeping. 

In their beds at rest. 

Many people are passing, 

Gqj^ig to Aston market. 

Some of produce have a load 

Others of eggs a basket, 

But many to the village go 

Merely to pass the day. 

Liquor like water does then flow, 

Down the throats of frenchmen gay. 

'Twas on a balmy evening, 
In the pleasent month of June. 
I through the leafy forest walked. 
By the pale light of the moon. 
Amidst the trees the lights flicker, 
In shadows here and there. 



But they onee having tasted liberty. 

Forget that even it has an end; 

And from their tall poles of libert}-, 

To the guillotine noblemen send. 

Some of these deserved their fate 

For their deeds of tyrannical crime. 

Others deserve a better fate 

In reward for their life time. 

Thus through the fault of a monarch. 

Much innocent blood was shed, 

Through his not having courage and firmness. 

He at the guillotine lost his head. 

Each day their frenzy grew greater. 

Till their brutality knew no bounds; 

Innocent blood did flow as water, 

Throughout their principal towns. 

Till all people of moderation 

Were disgusted with their deeds, 

And there came a great reaction, 

When Xapoleon his country freed. 

At first they made him consul 



And in some places where the leaves were Bu-t his ambition craved for more, 

thicker, And he higher grew in the national council, 

Darkness complete reigned ther«. After each victorious war. 

All nature was silent and tranquil. Till the people were dazzled with glory 

'Twas nearly as silent as death. Won by their general brave; 

^ve the distant cry of a whipoorwill, And forgot about tyranny formerly', 

iWid the rustleof leaves by air's gentle breath. To him the reins of government gave; 

Thus the nation's mighty effort 
The ninteenth century- how advanced. In liberty's noble cause. 

Beyond the savage age that's past. Did now become of no effect. 

Each nation's power is nicely balanced And was lost amidst the applause 

The reins of government by statesmen graspedWhich they rendered to their Emperor, 



Who for practical knowledge and sense. 

By mortal man were ne'er surpassed; 

They all now see 'tis common sense 

Instead of wit and eloquence. 

That makes a nation last. 

No longer fops and spendthrifts 

Stand around our conntrj-'s throne. 

'Tis men endued with nobler gifts, 

U«de<r which our country tias grown. 

TMl now it ranks throughout the earth. 

Midst nations, great and small, 

As the land where liberty had its birth. 

Where tyrants surely fall. 

'Twas here the slave was first set free 

From bondage, worse than death, 

'Twas from the monarch of the sea. 

That tyrrany met its death. 

Safe in this favored land 

Surrounded by the wave. 

Fine noble men from other lands 

Come here their lives to save. 

Who lack the monarch and the laws, 

With which our country's biessed. 

Because thej- tried to change their law? 

Their monarchs threatened death. 

They in a cruel despotic way, 

O'er their poor subjects rule. 

Till their indignant subjects cry 

Why let this tyrant rule? 

Then led by desperate leaders. 

Nought can arrest their zeal; 

They are truly national weeders 

The nation their cruelties feels. 



As he returning came. 

Of homage they could not give enough 

To his great, glorious name. 

Had our colony, when it rebelled 

On American's distant shoie. 

The bounds of propriety levelled. 

They ne'er would have gained the war. 

But their acting with moderation. 

And our distance from the scene. 

Caused them to become a nation, 

Which for one hundred years they have been. 

For the loss of such a colony. 

The British subjects all lament, 

Especially the trifling cause, 

Which caused her to absent 

From her dutiful allegiance 

To the land that gave her birth; 

'Twas by our statesmen's negligence. 

The war began at fir■^t, 

They tried to tax unjustly. 

The colonists would not submit. 

Our foolish statesmen would not give way; 

Thus the flames of war were lit, 

But even then there yet was hope 

To save England's fairest daughter; 

But our statesmen would not stoop. 

With foreign troops they fought her. 

After many fierce battles, we were defeated, 

'Twas what our country deserved, 

And from America our soldiers 

Then quickly retreated, 

Which unto this day we might have preserve4 

If our statesmen had not. 



MFES REAL ROMANCE. 



61 



Been so foolishly stubborn 

And yielded to them, 

In whatever was right. 

Most of America 

To them would have yielded, 

And we never would have had 

That inglorious fight; 

But now it is too late 

To amend the deeds of the past, 

Our colony is now a power first rate. 

Each year 'tis increasing so fast, 

That in a few years it will pass us. 

As a great manufacturing power, 

They already surpass us. 

In gold's heavy dust 

And the exportation of flour. 



I do not the difference over state, 

When 1 say the change is great, 

As daylight is unto darkness, 

Ur as life is unto death. 

Vet Italy has a lovely clime, 

As ever was stirred by air's gentle breath, 

'Twas once the fairest of countries, 

With a people both noble and brave. 

Their territory scarce kne.w a boundary, 

Save the ocean's restless wave; 

1'heir senators knew naught of dishonor 

'Twas modesty adorned their maids 

"I'was patriotism sent their youth unto battle 

And by virtue they lengthened old acre 

\yhen they conquered all nations of size 

Throughout the then known earth" ' 



With England they rank throughout the Virtue by them was less prized, 

world; And they spent all their time in mirth 

For intelligence and wealth T'was the loss of virtue, ' 

Like England, where e'er their flag's unfurled With pleasure and wine. 
Its influence is felt; That made the greatest nation. 

No longer the common masses Of this our earth decline. 

In ignorance remains, Through ages have passed 

And hear nothing but high and low classes, Since a nation they have been. 
As in devout priest ridden Spain. Grand works of their creation. 

Reader if e'er you travel, Throughout the land are seen. 

Through the wide, wide world. Why now does Italy and Rome, 

Mark well the difference between those coun- Once the mistress of the world, " 

tries. With, its palaces of stone. 

Where liberty's flag is unfurled, In such misery abound? 

And those where ignorance and superstition. Why does ignorance and \ice. 



And the povve*- of priests remams. 

As in Italy, Mexico and Spain. 

Compare them with ( ireat Britain, 

Or countries of its race, 

Or with Prussia, Holland, Denmark, 

Can you a difference trace? 

Ves, you cannot deny it. 

The difl'erence is great. 

Go travel through sunny Italy, 

Walk through the streets of Rome. 

Return to England's temperate clime, 

Gaze from St. Paul's church dome. 



This glorious land disgrace, 

When Christ's most holy Vicar, 

H ere dictates to our race? 

Bulls and dogmas issue from him. 

To over half the Christian world. 

While Rome itself is full of sin, 

To the whole world a disgrace. 

With its convents and churches, 

On almost every street. 

While every second man you meet, 

Is either a monk or priest. 



TO A FRIEND WHO ASSERTS THAT WAR IS A DREADFUL 
NECESSITY. 



Cities are burnt. 

The harvests are spoiled. 

And nation's wealth wasted, 

By wars turmoil; 

Religion forbids its gastly strife. 

This alone should cause those nations 

cease. 
That have received the gospel's light 
And from stern war give them relief. 
For we have no cause to yet complain 
On our earth for want of space. 
For untilleil lands lie from sea to sea, 
A large and trackless waste. 
On our little globe we still have space, 
For millions more of men. 
Why then not wait some thousand j'ears. 
Till 'tis filled from end to end. 
And leave to our great Creator, 
The problem of finding space. 



On our earth in coming years 
For the increase of our race 
Though our age is far advanced. 
Beyond the savage age that's past. 
We still can more improvements make, 
to And further still advance. 

Towards the glorious age that's coming. 

When all the world will be at peace. 

When virtue and wisdom. 

Will reign supreme 

O'er ignorance and vile deceit. 

'Twas on a Sunday bright and fair. 
To Richford river with a friend 1 went; 
Clouds edged with silver decked the air. 
That to the sky a beauty lent; 
After a drive of about three miles, 
Over a ro.id th.-M was none too smooth. 
We at the Rousseau farm arrived. 



62 



LIFES REAL ROMANCE. 



Twas a sight fit for a poet's muse 

With its gentle rising grass-covered slopes, 

Its tall and stately elms 

The crops that were the farmer's hopes, 

Which in the breezes trembled. 

The dark green oats, the lighter wheat, 

The well kept kitchen garden. 

The potatoes in their rows so neat, 

1 he neat and tidy barn, 

Of which no boards were lying loose 

Nor doors from off their hinges. 

But everything neat in its place 

From the ground floor to the shingles. 

The dark, broad, silent riv^er 

With a current that scarcely moved 

Its wmding course through meadows 

I'ill it to the mill dam flowed; 



This mill it had a rustic look 

With its rough moss-covered posts. 

'Tis years since work its timbers shook, 

Or boards were from it tossed. 

It now stands but an emblem. 

Of what it was that day. 

When in the morning its men assembled, 

'Twas then activity; 

But now its timbers are decayed. 

The machinery from it gone. 

'Tis a lonelj- place in evening's shade; 

Its mill dam is half gone, 

The waters having forced their way 

Through planks no longer sound. 

Rush against the rocks. 

Rise high in spray, 

And down the rapids bound. 



IN REFERENCE TO CANADIAN FARMERS. 



And puff them off in smoke. 

If the money they spent on drink and tobacco. 

Which on an average amounts to fifty dollar, 

a year. 
Was spent on good books 
Full of practical knowledge. 
What a different class they then would 

appear. 
Not as they are at the present day. 
With other professions they cannot compare. 
In literature and politics. 
They have scarce naught to say, 
And in their country's affairs, 
They have no equal share; 
But this will soon be a thing of the past. 
Their education has already begun. 
No longer they will bean ignorant class, 
For the father now educates his son. 



Our farmers want ambition. 

With the times- they keep not pace. 

Some think that education 

For a farmer is a waste; 

That strength is all he needs 

With which to till his land; 

But he that lacks bright intelligence. 

Can never expect to stand 

High midst his fellow-men of worth. 

Whose society is a pleasure. 

Education of all things is the first. 

By which to reach their level. 

How often of an evening 

They might their minds improve. 

By study and constant reading. 

But precious time they lose. 

Some often sit at twilight, 

And have their evening's smoke, 

Evei-y half hour filling their pipes, 

[Written after a fight I witnessed between two French Canadian bro- 
thers, many ©f whom have the beastly habit of biting their antagonist 
when he is getting the l)est of them; fingers or the ears are considered the 
most advantageous parts to bite. I have personally known one man who 
had one of his fingers disabled in this way.] 

One of them like a cruel beast, 
Caught his brother by the shoulder. 
And in it sank his snow white teeth 
Till his poor brother hollered. 

"Imperial Caesar, dead and turned to clay. 

Might stop a hole to keep the wind away." 

'Twas Shakespeare who wrote these lines, 

I will not dispute their truth. 

But from Caesar's death to our present time. 

Has honor his name forsook? 

No never! and unto this day. 

Even yet in ages to come. 

Honored shall be his name 

For the deeds which his valor have done; 

For the heart that never quailed before 

danger. 
That mourned an enemy's death; 



Romulus and Remus, 
Two men of great renown. 
One of them forever famous 
Having built Rome's ancient town. 
One day did have a quarrel, 
And against each other went. 
The eldest brother's hand was soiled. 
He his brothers life's blood shed, 
'Twas many many years since then. 
In this enlightened age, 
Two only brothers against each otiier. 
Did in fierce combat wage. 
Their hearts were filled with dreadful ire, 
I'heir eyes flash with anger's fire, 
'Twas a sad and cruel sight 
As there they fought by the pale moon': 
li^ht. 



LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 



63 



In whom all fear was a stranger, 
By his heroic and tragic death, 
He has won everlasting fame, 
Throughout the civilized earth. 
RepiiV)licans and Monarchies may 

away, 
But never his name from this earth, 
The youths as yet unborn. 
With ages that are yet to come, 
With interest, will read the story, 
Of how he fought and won. 
May it give their hearts ambition. 
When they hear of his success. 
May it stir them to activity, 
Send them in honor's quest. 
For in seeking their own honor. 
In a just and lawful waj-. 
Their country's honor is ad\anced. 
Just as much as they. 



Midst the nations of the earth, 
And banish wat from off our land. 
Which often in it has caused death. 
Yet should some other nation 
vanish With us injustice treat 

.And armies send out against us, 
We then should not retreat, 
But, as one united nation, 
Against them make a stand 
And those unjust invaders 
Drive from our native land. 

By yonder woodlands across the stream 
Hundreds of fireflies are there 
For a moment a thonsand lights are se«n 
Then empty darkness fills the air. 

The woodlands no longer 

Look bare and dreary 

Without their coat ox verdure green 

On them each day leaves are appearing 

And violets at their trunks are seen. 



rled 



The mosquitos, what a nuisance 
To the human race I 



We worked beside the leafy forest, 
Through which the moonbeams stru 

through, 
'Twas a lovely sight to gaze on, 
"^rhe sky was naught but azure blue, 
There was not a cloud on the vaulted heavens- Gentle ladies lose their patience, 
From the north to the south not one could be Tear their lovely bauds and face 

seen. Till one is almost afraid 

For a moment here and there a star's light That their beauty they will lose 

did glimmer. If they tliey thus continue on 

The next moment a blank where the star had Their beauty to abuse. 

been. With what pretty indignation 

But ere one short half hour had passed A lady brings her tapering hand 

Millions of stars lit up the sky, With an energetic slap 

Quickly through space bright meteors Where the stinging insect stands ; 

She smiles a smile of pleasure 



flashed 
And vanished in a moment's time. 

Where is there a man, in country or town, 

At the end of the day's toil 

Whose heart will not grow light 

As enters his happy home 

Does hear the kettle's cheerful boil. 

His children his steps have known, 

Around him they flock lovingly 

And take his tools away; 

His wife has a loving look; 

His weariness flies awav. 

There is work for every man 

Whose motto is duty done 

Throughout this great Canadian land 

E'en for every .-\dam's son. 

Let our nders rule with wisdom 

This great Canadian land 

-And never try to loosen 

The ties that bind our land 

With our mother country 

Across the ocean's wave, 

But rather try and strengthen them 

Till one great nation is made 

Of England and her colonies 

On whicli the sun never sets. 

By this we would stronger be. 

For our strength would us protect, 

And we could then make a stand 



When she kills the "little wretch." 

But a hundred come from the neighboring 

swamp 
To avenge their comrade's death. 
She tries to read a book, 
On her favorite rustic seat, 
But ere she has read a smgle line 
Her rout it is complete. 
She toward the house goes 
W'ith a light and hasty step, 
There is even a frown on her ones even 

brow. 
At the gate she has John met, 
Tells him to go and fight a smudge 
By yonder elm tree, 

She'thinks she can bear with nasty smoke 
If from mosquitoes she can be free. 
John lights a smudge with the greatest care 
L)oes green leaves on it lay — 
Colunms of smoke mount through the air — 
She thinks she has won the day. 
Goes sits upon her rustic seat 
With interest reads her book; 
But the wind has changed another way 
-And envelops both her and book 
With clouds of suffocating smoke. 
Her ejes are filled with tears — 
Slie cries this would a saint provoke. 
Her favorite seat she leaves. 
If she to the barnyard had gone 



64 



LIFE S REAL ROMANCE. 



She tkere would have easily seen After a tranquil night of re»t. 

That the animal world as well as man When all creation seems so bright 

The stings of mosquitoes feel— No man should have but a heart light 
Here the spirited horse goes prancing round Excepting those that trouble know 

In a wild and frantic way, Or in sin's guilty pathway go. 

But at the sound of his master's voice 'Twas on a morning fair like this 

Welcomes him with a gladsome neigh— O'er mountain top hung golden mist, 

The farmer makes a good-sized smudge, ... 



The moment the smoke appears 
The animals all around it crowd, 
For smoke they have no tears, 
And if they did it were for joy 
For the comtort they receive ; 
For the flies no longer bother them 
Or sting them in the ears; 
No longer is dignity known — 
To get an equal amount of smoke 
All most together meet, 



Still on the grass the dewdrops clung 

As diamonds glittering in the sun, 

I through the country took a stroll, 

Watched the lambs frisk on grassy knoll, 

Saw the young colts with coats so sleek 

Gallop and o'er the ditches leap, 

Heard their wise motheis' reproving neigh 

For going so far from them away; 

Saw a young calf too young to share 

In its playmates' frolics there 

With its comic wondering gaze 



The horses and cows, the calves and the On this new world of a few days; 



sheep, 

With the colts and the lambs 
With their frolics and freaks 
Till the break of the next day. 
The impatient cow will hardly stand 
To let the maid her milk 
And sometimes with a kick 
Upsets the can with the evening's milk 
Or brings her tail with sudden force 
Against the maiden's face: 
Its bright fresh color it has lost. 
It on it leaves a trace 
Which will require both soap and water 
Once more her to restore 
To be the farmer's pretty daughter 
That she had been before.} 
But it is our sturdy lumbermen 
Who work in the forest's gloom 
That know what pests the mosquitoes are 
While the}' take tkeir dinner at noon; 
To make a smudge they run a risk 
Of a general conflagration, 



Also a hen with all her chicks 

With all their cunnning little tricks, 

When one a grasshopper had caught 

The others all around it popped 

And seized its head, its wings and legs, 

And all with relish on it feed — 

The stately father with plumage gay 

Is from them a few feet away, 

A warning cry from him does come, 

They towards their mother quickly run; 

They in a mother's care confide 

She with her wings does them all hide, 

I soon saw the cause of the warning cry, 

'Twas a chicken hawk soaring high up 

the sky. 
From these I turned another way: 
There golden wheat the breezes sway, 
Some thrifty man this wheat did sow, 
But God alone could make it grow, 
From Him the sun derives its heat 
That makes the earth produce replete 
All that's required for man's use. 



For the ground everywhere is dry and crisp, Often put by man to sad abuse. 



And they know what desolation 

A forest fire causes 

As it rushes up the trees. 

And that it scarcely ever pauses 

Till it nought of value leaves; 

They, therefore, do not light a smudge 

As they take their noon day meal. 

They hear the mosquito's constant buzz 

And their stings they often feel. 

How bright and frosty the morning, 
The snow flakes hang upon the trees, 
'Tis a silver forest as the sun is dawning. 
It nigh surpasses Summer leaves. 

The sun has just risen in a tinted sky 
And the flowers no longer drooping lie. 
For, beneath its bright and genial heat, 
Unfolded their beauties are complete, 
The gentle breezes blow the air 
In its sweetest fragrance everywhere, 
The feathered songsters welcome day 
With their happiest melody, 
All creation seems refreshed 



How can some ioolish men declare 

That on earth by chance came there? 

Let them take a well tilled field 

And try if produce it will yield 

Kill all the seed that does in it lay 

And from it keep all seed away. 

If chance made this world here below 

Somethmg in that field by chance will grow; 

But, no ! barren and bare it will remain 

Year after year all the same. 

If foi one field chance can do naught 

Can then a universe be wrought. 

No ! None but God. the only Great, 

Could this, our universe, create. 

If there is an object of interest for men to 

see 
'Tis a fine strong ship on a stormy sea. 
But were it to lack a guiding hand 
Seldom by chance it would safely land, 
But driven by every changing storm 
On rugged rocks it would be borne. 
No man ot sense would dare to say 
That ship by chance on the sea lay. 



LIFES RF,Ai. Rn>TAX(TF.. 



65 



Fill tliav some m.ui iluu sliip did build. 
And with a cargo liad il filled; 
And to a crew its management ga\c, 
V.rc it went out oti stormy \\a\e; 
I Inis when jehova the great and I)i\ine, 
I he Kver Almighty, the Ruler of lime, 
( danced o'er thai dark and endle.ss space. 
^\ hich then was naught but dreaiy waste, 
'I'lirough his infinite jiower the Only Wi.se, 
(~>ur earth created as it now lies, 
Also sun, mi)on and stars did make. 
I'rom which oiu- universe 



Its light doth tak«, 

In this small corner of mighty space. 

Our sun is the greatest; 

Round it revolving all the rest go. 

It heat and light doth on them throw. 

Our siui inunovealjle does not stay, 

Round larger suns its course does lay. 

These suns with ours round larger go, 

l"'ather of space man may not know; 

Of space man never can comprehend. 

Of boundless »j)ace there is no end. 



CATHOLICISM CRITICISKD PROM A PROTESTANT STAND- 
POINT. 



There is.i ( '.od llie only great. 

I'liat did the hea\en.s and earth create. 
I'cw men of reason do this deny. 
Altho' portions of scripture they deny, 

They admire some of its noble pages. 
Others they look on as mere fables. 
C If the superstitious Jewish nation, 
\\'ith their ridiculous story of earth's creation 
That (iod would delight in the blood of beasts 
Is a barbarous doctrine to say the lea>t, 
.\nd worthy of the savage age 
In which it was written in the sacred page. 



.\ud yet altho' guilty of all this infamy, 
Jt i)roclaims from its jnilpits its infallibihty 
And to-day is working with the vilest deceit, 
To bring the world again in bondage at its 

feet. 
In .Spain and Austria its bigotry still exists. 
No man there can justice get who its tyrannr 

resists. 
Not less than thirty reformers can maet to 

worship, 
^^'hich in any age or country, is a great in- 
justice, 



\ et some Christian churches threaten wuh And not many months ago, 

hell, • Bible sellers received many a cruel Mow 

All those who against their doctrines rebel. From the whips and clidis of Spanish priest-s 

.\nd with the blasphemous imaginary threats Such treatment in America would not be. 

Have doubters and reasoners arguments met, given to a thief. 

.\nd for the last eighteen hundred >ears, \'et .some of their co-religionists, 

Have filled the world with doubts and fears. 'J'hat in Protestant countries Htc, 

And with their creed most base and wild, Take all they can, 

Men must have faith as a little child, IJut nothnig give. 

For to exercise HI religion intellect and reason, They enjoy the liberties of Prote.-«tant nia.?- 

Is accounted by them the rankest treason, nanimity, 

Mankind of course must have the faith of But in its glorious institutions, they have no 
babes, affinity, 

To become for the jH-iesthood suitable slaves, They still believe their priest's malignant 

Such as existed in the middle ages, lies. 

Which cau.sed such a blot on history's pages;And the glorious name of Luther despise, 

'Twas the cruel bigotry of the church of Rome And assert that the wonderful reformation. 

'I'hat scattered o'er Europe the martyr's bones. Was but a disastrous revolution. 

And made (jalileo a man most learned. This revolution has t.aken place 

statement that the world turned In Germany, England and the L^'nitedStatot.. 

Christians religiously 



Retract 1 

round 
And with fire and .-.word laid waste 
The peaceful valleys of the Albigense r; 
And struck a medal to proclaim 
Its pleasure in the ihou.sands slain. 
Of the brave Huguenots that would 

receive. 
Or the errors of Rome believe. 
It also blessed Philip the (,'ruel of Sv)aln, 
And encouraged him to try and reclaim 
( iermany and England from Luther's \nc: 

ing, 
Which had almost dispelled the error.s it 

teaching. 
Was the sword and inquisition the iir 



Now 



I /asked 
blind, 
ICC, Where can they greater nations find. 
In science, inventions and education, 
They surpass all but the French nation. 
not Whose inliabitants rebelled agaui.^t tJi« 
church's power, 
.\nd have been a greater nation since tliat 

hour; 
We need not, however, cross the ocean, 
ich- I'o see the efTects of superstitions devotion. 
1 n Brazil and M exico what progress has b«en 
Nvas made, 

Since Spain to those countries the gospel 
o])er gave? 

^^•"^y Truly it was a cruel sight, [gospel's light. 

'To lead back these lambs that had gon«astrayAs the Spaniard with his sword spread t^i« 

9 



gg life's real romance. 

How far more Ch listlike, was the hereticThan those who belong to Luther's grea 

Penn. schism. 

For he treated tlie savages like fellow men, But bj' the fruits of their greater devotion, 
And did not use such bloody treacliery, Do tlieygive the world any convincing token 

As the followers of the Roman HierarchyThat it makes them more noble and civilized 
\ et the progress of the lierelics has been nations, 

orand. Than those who their credulous faith have 

While ignorance and superstition predomin- forsaken? 

ate -Ml, no! they cannot but are filled shame. 

In every American Catholic land. At their backwardness, for which their relig- 

I challenge the most de\out of the Catholic ion is to blame. 

religion, Rome for centuries governed by tliis infallible 

To pr«ve otherwise, that their progress rehgion, 

deserves derision, • Is truly worthy of world's derision; 

When compared with the superior civilizationSituated m the fairest land of wine and flower 
Of all the I'rotestant nations. What was its progress under iiifallil)Ie power? 

But I have often heard them reply in this It lost its greatness of ancient day, 

way; And only gained in gaudy church display; 

All the heretics' advantages perish on the With superstition and ignorance it became 

judgment day. debased, 

Many of these religious dupes believe that And as a first rate city and nation, lost its 

penance and pain, place; 

Is necessary to help them eternal life to gain. But the scorn and contempt of the civilized 
Why should a man who abstains from meat, world. 

Derive advantage from it at thejudgment Roused dormamt patriotism and the nation's 

seat; flag unfurled. 

All that has been made is for man's use, Under which the J talims patriots brave. 
He only sins, who puts things to abuse. 'I'o the country again, freedom and liberty 
Oh how the noble men of future ages, gave. 

Will deride the bloody penance of the mid- Italy's progress since that time has been 

die ages, wonderful Jind great, 

And only by their noble actions please theirAnd again in Europe, it may become first 

God rate. 

Without the self chastisement of a monkish Let us now compare London of the heretic 

rod. school, 

I have often felt mingled pity and contempt ^Vith Rome under the Pope's infallible rule. 
When Catholic children have for an hour Since London was reformed and Protestant 

knelt, became; 

Repeating a single prayer to flod. How great has been its increase in power, 

As a punishment in place of the chastening wealth and fame, 

rod. And also how much greater is its modern 

Oh, what a farce, to punish a child with civilization, 

prayer. Than that of any Catholic city or nation. 

To have it love it should be the parent's care. Excepting infidel Paris where the church's 
History proves that the greater faith of a power is despised, 

nation, ■ And in consequence it is the nation's pride. 

The greater is its superstition and degrada-What does holy Rome, or devout Madrid or 

tion; Lisbon gain. 

Pagans and Mohannnedans have a moreun- In the civilization they inferior remain, 

questioning belief, . Than the heretics and infidels who live far 

And have longer prayers and fasts nobler lives, 

Than those who adore their ( »od of bread at And to a nobler and grander civilization rise. 

mass. ]jut in American cities the homes of the brave 

Vet their greater faith reduces their civiliza- The heretics have still grander progress 

tion made. 

Below that of all the European nations. Compare intellectual Boston, with any Bra- 

Then again compare Roman Catholic people zilian city, 

With the Protestants that have a faith more And it fills the hardest heart with piiy 

feeble. For the stagnant and ignorant Brizilian na- 

The Romanists believe with unquestioning tion, 

deference That is scarcely in a semi state of civili ;ation. 

In anything to which their religion has refer- And New N ork, the queen of.\merican cities, 

ence, How much greater and grander than any 

And have a more childlike and unquestion- Mexican city, 

ing religion. In everything that enriches and renders hap- 

Or elevates and ennobles the human mind. py mankind, 



jfe's real romance. (57 



Vet the Spainards settled amongst superior And if on anything these slaves have a doubt, 

nations, _ Their spiritual advisers, for them the truth 

Than the settlers of the Dutch or English nnd out. 

nation. I have often seen thousands of these illiterate 

They found acivili/ation tliat astonished the fools, 

world. Become for the priesthood, political tools 

In Mexico and Peru that in riches did abound And refuse their vote to an ex- Freemason, 
And lands that had ten times more fertility Because he had once a secret oath taken; 
'I'han New England, noted for its sterility. Even though that society he now denounced, 
F)Ut oh, noble heretics! how great your civ- And on bended knees its errors renounced, 

ilization, And had a character wuhout a stain. 

Which is the admiration of every European These in the election were of no avail, 

nation; For his opponent was a tool of the priest. 

While all the American nations of the Catho- And with a chosen few would often meet 

lie religion At the house of their spiritual adviser. 

Are, through ignorance, in a deplorable con- The progress of the election to consider, 

dition. And on the Sunday preceding the election 

Another proof of this church's debasing faith day, 

Is seen in Lower Canada's semi-barbarons The priest unto the people at the church did 

state. say: 

Here are settled countrymen of the learned 1 see the devil now in the church, 

French nation. Encouraging the Liberals in their wicked 

In a pitiable state of degradation work. 

Through the unrestrained spiritual power of And when they die he will take them to hell 

priests, Because against our church they did rebel. 

From which the English ha\e began to give But for this tyrannical language this priest, 

•hem relief, Through the indignation of the liberal press 

By the clear and con\incing proof of their came to grief; 

superiority, For all the liberal men throughout the prov 

Altho' in that province they are but a small ince 

minority. Sent to the bishop a wise remonstrance, 

it is English enterprise and their commercial Against the power that this priest usurped, 

activity. And for aiding politicians in political work. 

That has created Canada's wealth'and pros- The consequence was he was sent away, 

perity. • To another parish under ultramontane sway 

This can be seen where English settlers live, For his political opinions and exhortations. 
They to that town or village increased pros- Would in such a parish cause no sensation, 

perity give. But be received with unquestioning subniis- 

If any doubt this, to Montreal go, sion. 

And the English portion of it to them the Such was their ignorant and political con- 
truth would show. dition, 
Let them but see the beautiful English streetsThat for thirty j-ears they always elected 
Such as Sherbrook St., Catherme and l>or- That man who for them their priest selected. 

Chester St., I have often conversed with men ofthistyjje 

Andcompare them with the miserable French Where in a whole parish not twenty could 

architectural display, write. 

And the difference is as great as darkness to And asketl them how they gained their opin- 

day ion. 

Then again examine the names in every great Before at the polls they gave their decision. 

work, Fhey answered that the speeches before the 

The names of the heretics always rank first; election. 

But those places isolated from Protestant Cave them .some light on the question. 

example, "But we never come to a political decision, 

Form a still more convincing sarnph: _ Until we have had our confessor's opinion: 
Of the terrible effects of unquestioning faith. For how could any one but our spiritual ad- 
The curse of all nations in an ignoraat state. viser 

In these districts the schools mainly teach Give us better advice, or make us wiser 
The catechism and doctrines of the Catho- In all that pertains to our race and religion, 

lie belief. The faithful should be guided by his decision 

When these have been taught and their first Thus the priests mostly favor the conserva- 

coinmunion taken, live majority, 

Their education is finished and the school For it shows greater favors to the Roman 

forsaken. hierarchy; 

Thus in some parishes few can read or write. With laws that fill its coffers with gold. 
But in its place the priests give them spiritual .And allows a French farmer's farm to be sold, 

light, If he is unable his church tax to pay; 



g,^ I.IFES REAL ROMANCE. 



I'o gi-a^fy th« priests in their churcl: display The ftrst \vas not a dispute on spiritual be- 
MSHioJ^ of dollars on these oluu-chc> arc ha\iW-, 

wasted. Vn\t a temporal one between a priest awd his 

Apd for sill)- ceremonies they are consc- ncighl^or. 

crated, 'J'hrough which he did not his easter duties 

Whereas if the money was spent on educa- fulrtll; 

cation, And a short time after by accident was killed. 

The Canadians would be a nobler nation. The priest refused to bury his in holy ground 
If every chiu-ch was tin-ned into a >cliool, And as none of his near relatives could b« 
It would break the power of the priestliood's found, 

rule, Some bigoted creatures of the church of 

And the people's maniiood become more Rome, 

elevated, Flung his body in a slough, and covered it 

Though by secular education their churciics with stones. 

were deseciated. Oh God of mercy, wiiat horrid brutality 

The people woidd loe taugiit to live nobler Was this base outrage on mans humanity! 

live«- The other incident occurred on Holy Friday ; 

And not the imagined beauties of a home in That day in commemeration the Saviour 

the skies, died on. 

And not avoid ^in on aecount of everlasting It was a statue of Chri>t that miraculously 

punishment, bled. 

Or through the terrible fear of eternal judge- At least so the people said, 

ment; But my cousin, who belonged to that church 

But merely becacuse a sinful and ignoble Satisfied his curiosity and found out hou it 

life, worked. 

Destroys the happiness of human life. 'Twas sponges filled with the blood of ducks. 

But two incidents that among Komani«(ts oc- Which the priest's dupes imagined was lui- 

curred, raculous work. 

Have especially seemed to me sad and 

absurd. 

My reason for c-ritici-sing the Catholic church is because it, in my 
epinion, is the greatest and most dangerous enemy of all the Christian 
churches to religious liberty, liberal education and freedom of thought, 
without which all the civilization and progress of the human race would 
be stagnated, and man could never rise above the condition of semi-barbar- 
ism. Protestantism has many errors, but there is a hov^e almost to a 
certainty that they will be removed, for most of the Protestant churches 
are liberal enough to keep up with the progress of civilization and remove 
or modify doctrines that are repulsive to the more refined sentiments (i>f 
a more enlightened age. Not so with Romanism. It rigidly maintains 
that all the doctrines it has taught, and does teach, are infallible, and by 
horrible threats frightens men from using their reasoning powers on the 
supernatural absurdities of their religion. 

Now I ask all naturally liberal minded Catholics to study the history 
©f their church and carefully compare it with the remarkal)le progress of 
civilization since the great and glorious light of Luther's rerormatif)n that 
has spread throughout the earth. 

To observing minds it is quite evident that most refined, educated 
and prosperous Catholics are tho.se that live in infidel and Protestant 
countries, and that in all tho.se countries where the population is almost 
wholly Catholic, such as Lower Canada, Mexico, Peru, Chili and the 
.South American republics, the inhabitans are almost in a state of l)arbar- 
ism when compareil with the civilized, refined, educated jjeople of the 
American Protestant states, territories and countries. 

Does it look possible that if the teachings of Catholicism were infal- 
lible and superior to those of Protestantism and infidelity that an all wise 
^od would allow the teachings of Mis Son's most holy vicar to have so 



life's rem. romance, 69 

injurious effect on llie childlike an<l uncjuestioning faith and lives ot the 
inhabiiants of Spain, Austria, Poland, Portugal. Italy iMexico, Chi i, 
Peru Hraz^^l and Lower Canada V Would He allow the lives of those who 
have'the firmest belief in this infallible religion to be m a more backward 
and de<'raded state than the lives of heretics and infidels who live in Ger- 
manv France, England, the United States and other Protestant countries V • 
iZk few men who reason impartially on the subject can hink other- 
vise han this- That if Catholicism is the only true and perfect religion 
rtheeartluhat the majority of its believers should be the most perfect 

and elevated people in existence. , ., i 

History aid \he condition of the world at the present day utterly 
refute all the pretensions of the Catholics being the most perfect people 

'"'If Me'xico and Peru the ^ Spaniards repaid the generosity and hos- 
nitalitv of the natives with the basest t.eachery and bloodiest cruelt). 
Cii wars could not be calle<l the wars of men but the wars of devils 
The sword and cross went side by side; poor heathens were roasedo 
death" and so-called Christianity triumphed over paganism And with 
v^hat effect? Go ask the travelers that stand amidst the ruins of 
former gTeatness who see a people but a shadow of what they once 
weri enslaved by priests and superstition, and they can g've usthe 
rnswer If this lamentable state of affairs only existed m one Catholic 
country it might be attributed to some other cause, but it exists m all 
countries where the church is all powerful. 

i have lived ma«y years among the French Canadians and have never 
met a people so destitute of all the delicacy of fee mg ^^^•)j^^'"7^^^"\. ^/^ 
have seen over i,ioo people step up to the ahar in three days time 
and partTke of what the/ believed to be the body of c;od-a religious 
riTe that incurs fearful responsibilities on all Christians who partake 
uiwoithily of it. Yet the majority of these people led low and worthless 
ives In I indulged regularl)' in swearing and indecent conversa ion 
W^.t blasphemy is this, for a whole parish of drunkards, liars, lewxl 
men thievls, backbiters, and many men and women who were merely 
no. inal Chrl;tions, as well as young children who could hardly realize 
wha they were do ng, to all eat of the body of (iod, and then return in 
hal? an hour's time to'their old style oniv;ing. Just --^f^'- l^e par to 
the body of God going int<. a mouth that a few hours bofoie took His 
name hi\'ain, uttered indecent jokes and anecdotes and stinkmg with 
Tobacco and bad whisky. I have often seen fathers and mothers talk in 
hefr own homes before their innocent children in such a disgusting y 
ndecent manner that were such language used by any '-^ in a resizeable 
English or American house he would certamly be kicked out by one of the 
members of the family. English and Americans also use coarse language, 
bvuthe reader will no doubt have ncAiced that they almost invariab y 
respect the presence of the fair sex. Let it not be imaged that it is only 
r ^w F ench families that are addicted to this habit 1 have been in over 
one hundred French villages ami rural districts, an.l intimate y associated 
w fh many of the families, and have never meet one single family where 
The men Ld boys wholly refrained from the use of oaths and indecent 
lanrage in the presence of their mothers, sisters and wives; and I have 
never yet met a French woman wh.. was not addicted to a mild foim ol 



fO life's REAt ROMANCE. 



swearing and constantly using such exclamations bf stirprisfe as "Mori 
Difeu, Seigneur de Dieu" etc. Yet, among thesfe people, there are ver^ 
few who do not strictly oliserve all the holidays and fasts and regularly 
confess and receive absolution. From conversations I have had with 
them and many deaths I have seen amongst them, I am certain that 
instead of gaining peace and consolation m time of death by a truthful 
reliance on God's mercy and a purity and nobleness of action during life, 
their only hope in time of death is based on two words — confession and 
absolution. 

I have often been disgusted at the cruel manner in which they galloped 
their horses nearly to death get a priest with his little bit of bread, as if the 
eternal happiness of an immortal soul could in any way be affected by 
such a silly ceremony. 

One of the most strange habits I saw among them was that of pray- 
ing in the living room while all the other members of the family were 
carrying on a lively conversation, and very often not of the choicest kind, 
and intermingled with a few oaths. It certainly seemed very unchristian- 
like conduct for people who were considered faithful and good members 
of a perfect church whose spiritual guide is claimed to be inspired by God, 
but much more so, when the old man of 70 years of age, while on his 
knees jDraying, cursed his son in a shocking manner for forgetting to bring 
some things from the village, and then resumed his prayers and beads. 
This, and hundreds of other things I shall relate later on, willl go to show 
that this religion is a mere formality and combination of silly rites and 
ceremonies. 

I have seen over fifteen hundred people going to the shrine of some 
Saint, many of whom went to be cured of various diseases — but ot all 
the fifteen hundred not one was cured. On asking the reason of this I 
was told that those who went to be cured did not have sufficient faith. 

This is the way with many religions of the present day — a plausible 
statement is always found to defend that which does not deserve the name 
of faith, but rather that of credulity. I could write of hundreds of 
miracles that have been gravely related to me by the kind and hospitable 
people en winter evenings, but for want of space will leave them for the 
next volume. One of the most absurd, however, was that God had His 
photograph taken on a "nose rag" from which all the pictures of the 
present day of Mini have been reproduced. 

The woman of a house I boarded at had her child fearfully scalded, 
and, for several days, applied nothing but holy water to heal it, but, as 
any intelligent reader may imagine, without any beneficial result till even 
the credulous mother gave way and she sent for a doctor. 

It is perfectly sickening to see the unquestioning and childlike faith 
they have in their priests to perform miracles — such as stopping fire and 
floods or healing the sick, and actually one jioor ignorant woman tried to 
persuade me that a priest could raise a man from the dead — "that is if he 
wanted to.'" 

This of course is only in the isolated districts removed far from 
the enlightening influences of Protestant freedom of thought. Many 
perhaps who will read this will hardly believe that Catholicism isolated 
from /Protestantism and all powerful in a country fends to retard civiliza- 
tion and progress, and may point to the civilized condition of Catholics in 



life's real romance. 71 



Protestant countries and countries under the influence of infidelity: but 
they should remember that no favorable conclusions can be taken for 
Catholicism from this fact; for, if that church does energetically sup- 
port its schools in the United States, it is for the very reason that they are 
obliged to do so for fear their foUov^ers would attend national schools and 
become liberal minded citizens. Schools are also one of the best means 
they have in ihcir power to impregnate the i)liable minds of the rising 
generation with their (.loctrines. 

I have no ill feelings against ;iny individual Catholic or against the 
mass of the followers ol that religion, but I must acknowledge I have a 
hearty contempt for those religious frauds who are secretly trying to under- 
mine the institutions of this country and think of nothing else but the 
aggrandizement an«l augmentation of the power of their church liy teaching 
doctrines diieclly antagonistic to the institutions of our country. J cannot 
tell how indignant I was, some lime ago, when I read ol the want of 
patriotism and base ingratitude of Archbishop Gibbon, of Haltimore, 
who actually had the audacity to use the following quotation: "Pretestant- 
ism will perish and disappear as an ulcer with the last atom of (lesh it has 
Ijeen cutting away." Oh, fellow citizens, just think of the base spirit 
that actuates the bigoted heart of this deceitful enemy of our country. 
[le has the despicable meanness to wish the overthrow of the very institu- 
tions that gives him perfect religious lilicrty; that allows his church to buy 
some of the finest property in the country and build churches, schools and 
colleges on it. How grand does this liberal and generous treatment of 
our government to all the religious sects in the United States ay^pear when 
compared with the mean and unjust treatment many of the Catholic gov- 
ernments give seels that are opposed to their religion. The sentiments of 
Archbishop Gibbon in the book entitled "The Faith of Our Fathers" only 
illustrates the policy of his tyrannical and ambitious church, which is to 
cry for rights and liberty when it is in the minority and crush to the earth 
all who are opposed to it when it is in the majority. But ihe idea, lo call 
Protestantism an ulcer. If it is, no human tongue could utter a word 
vile enough for Romanism. It is not worth while, however, to waste time 
in speaking of a man who is so impregnated with bigotry that he caunot 
see the glorious work that Protestantism and its grand doctrines have 
accomplished in every country that had the blessing of ils influence. 
Gibbon reminds me of the serpeni who stung ihe foolish countryman that 
allowed it to warm itself at his lire-place. All such men as Gibbon are 
as dangerous to the nation as the serpent to the countryman, and it is 
absolutely necessary that our government should take the sting out of 
Catholicism and all other religions by taking completely out of their 
hands the education of the youth of the country. A government that 
gives all its citizens a liberal national education can safely treat with con- 
tempt and indifference whatever j)oison the rising generation may receive 
in churches, or from their parents, who are in many instances bigots, for 
Ihe oil of a good education as an antidote is suflicient to remove all 
danger from the nation's life. And as to the assertion thai Protestantism 
will perish, I reply only its errors will perish. 

I have in several i)arts of the criticism omitted some of the thoughts 
of the most advanced thinkers on religion, for I would not intentionally 
hurt the feelings of any liberal Christians of sects thai are by degrees 



LIFE S REAT- ROMANCE. 



easting away the superstitions and cruel doctrines that have descended to 
every cluirch from the barbarous religions of former ages. Such chmchcs 
and Christians should not be too severely criticised, but rather encouraged 
in the cultivation and develo)>ment of higher and nobler ideas of the 
glorious attributes of an Almighty Creator by a more careful study of His 
works and of the laws by which He governs on earth: but every lover of 
progress should denounce and resist all those churches that have the 
unreasonable audacity to declare that an All Wise Creator has given them 
the power to l^ecome the spiritual dictators of the rest of mankind. 



Our nihiisters should preach tlic juspel 

Spread far its glorious light: 

But carry no sword in the other hand. 

With which in battle to fight 

Against the rude barbarians. 

Who will not its truth receive, 

'Tis against the Bible's precepts, 

"I'is not alone iheir preaching 

That will convert the human race. 

For oft the best of preachers 

Their calling do disgrace, 

By not keeping the precepts. 

Which they do the people teach. 

'Tis by example, not by precept, 

That the sinner's heart is reached. 

Why should ( lod's most holy servant, 

Who believes in the truths of His word 

Owe debts unto his neighbor, 

Tken with him break his word 

By not being able to pay on that dale, 

That which he promised his n( 

And the kind hearted creditor 

Does promise to wait 



To the words of eloquence uttered by lips, 
Which far from truth's paths winder. 
Others must have their social pipe, 
Or harmless glass of wine. 
Others at a game of chess or draughts 
Pass hours of t eir time. 
Can this be done unto God's glory, 
While souls are perishing each day 
For the want of the gospel's blessed story? 
Its bright, illuminating ray. 
Has shone in most parts of the earth. 
Where Christian influence is felt. 
Though eighteen hundred years have pa^se 
.Since Christ on this earth dwelt, 
Stiill ignorance and \ice, 
I; pon this earth remain. 
Men living in (Christian land. 
Take God's holy name in vain. 
.-Mas! why should the scoffer 
The opportunity iiave, 
ibor to pay, To mock at Christ's religion, 
.\nd at its failings laugh, 
l^oint towards it with derision. 



How often do clergymen break their wordXo the martyrs at the stake, 

in this way, Burnt there by fellow Christians; 

Till most of their parishoners. For some difference of faith. 

With interest can listen on longer. 



Our country is the greatest 

That exists upon tlie earth, 

.■\nd in modern civilization, 

It truly rank-- the first. 

It has no monstrous serpents. 

With which some lands are cursed, 

>.o earthquakes burst upon us. 

Nor famine's dreadful dearth 

Has ever been throughout our land. 

Since on its shores we have been; 

No tyrant rules our noble land, 

No deserts here are seen, 

Our boundaries are the ocean's wave. 

Our rivers broad and deep, 

On which our ships can loaded sail 

Till the ocean's waves they meet. 

Our people are brought together 

By railways of great length, 

'Tis what our country was in need of 

On account of its extent. 

Now let us all as men and brothers. 



In friendship meet together 
And on every successive year. 
Try and make our country belter. 
Let us give the hand of fellowship 
Unto every man. 

No matter what his creed or color. 
.\s long as he* is a man, 
.'\s long as he has honor. 
And does himself respect, 
Does keep our country's laws, 
That man should justice get. 
Cannot the foreign settlers. 
The Saxon and the Celt. 
■J'he Protestants and Catholics 
't'heir animosities forget. 
Be a united nation, 
Forget their ancient feuds. 
Which cause naught but vexation 
,-\nd the nation's honor lose; 
Besides our being laughed at. 
By the skeptics of this age, 



LIFF.N REAL ROMANCE. "J/g 

That the followers of a Saviour meek. Let our ministers and prirsix 

Should against each other wage Preach theh- doctrines side l)y side, 

In useless controversial strife, And not each others' creeds condemn, 

Each other's creed condenm. < lod alone will this decide. 

Is this being to the world a light? Let each religion and its followers 

Does this convert their fellowmen? Banish their glaring faults. 

Ah, no; alas! it brings disgrace .Vnd not their brothers anatheniize. 

Upon the Christian world. Who through ignorance are at fault. 

Ignorance and vice there still remain, Let all our men and youth, 

In Christian lands abound, 'I'hroughout our territory'. 

Why try and pull the tiny mote K.\cel in honor's great pursuit. 

Out of our brother's eye. With friendly rivalry; 

When ten times wor.se in ours remain. Let the sturdy farmer with honest toil, 

When thousands yearly die; 'I'urn the desert's dreaiy waste 

That hear the sound of our church'* bells. Into a rich and fertile soil; 

But die a fearful death, Bearing produce for the human race. 

Risking the woes of eternal hell. Let him ne'ei be ashamed 

By the sinful life they lead; Of his brawny arm. 

If we glance upon the surface, His clothes or his sunburnt face, 

Of our modern society. But rather blush for an untilled farm. 

There all things may appear Or a disorderly, ill kept place. 

In accordance with propriety. "i"is not fine nor gay apparel. 

But go beneath the surface. Or jewels of value great, 

Until well amongst the people. ']"hough high may be his standing. 

And inconsistencies are found. These will make no man great. 

From the college to the steeple, "i'is virtue and true ambition. 

Which disgrace this Christian nation. That enobles a man's heart; 

Of this enlightened age, If any man does lack these two. 

,\nd our progress does retard. With him does honor part. 

Towards the goal for which we aim. 

Education is one of the grandest word.s ever uttered by mortal tongue. 
It elevates man from a position little belter than that of the brute beast 
and makes him the most j;lorious creature on the face of the earth — on it 
depends the progress and civilization of the human race. Man can never 
attain to that exalted position for which he was created without the 
civilizing influence of a liberal education. Education in its highest and 
truest sense is the acquisition of moral, physical and scientific truths. It 
is according as nations and men Ijecome acquainted with these truths that 
they rise in the scale of modern civilization. But the majority of man- 
kind of the present day do not receive education in its highest and truest 
sense, and for this reason millions of our fellow men can never attain to an 
exalted manhood through the ignorance, vice and superstition with which 
ihey are debased, and their degraded condiftion can only be attributed to 
the false and superficial education that they receive. Of the secular and 
religious education of the Mohammedans and pagans I have no need to 
speak, for the depravity and brutality of the majority of the believers in 
those religions is sufficient to show any civilized man of intelligence how 
a false religious education prevents man from becoming a civilized being. 
The great mistake in the religious instruction of the Christian churches 
is that too much precious time is wasted in teaching doctrines and creeds, 
which only create animosity and hatred between the nations of the earth. 
Some of these doctrines are an outrage on the justice and mercy of Gsfi 
and unworthy of the better feelings of humanity; for instance, there are 
Christian churches that have a doctrine in their prayer books stating that 
no one outside of Christianity can be saved, and this cruel and blas- 
phemous doctrine is taught to millions of little innocent chiWren. These 
churches that teach doctrines contrary to science and humanity deserve the 
contempt of all civilized men. Jv[\ men who take an interest in the 

lo 



74: * life's real romance. 

improvement of the human race should rebel against having their children 
taught such atrocious doctrines as these. 

In some countries prayers and catechism is the only education the 
children receive. 

In Lower Canada I have seen school examiners listen to a school 
teacher examining her schol^irs in iht- gravest manner possihie and in most 
cases give a satisfactory report of their progress, yet, actually, these men 
could no more read or write in their native language than they could 
decipher the hieroglyphics on an ancient Egyptian tomb. To the priest who 
always attends these examinations it was a matter of indifference. He 
is generally satisfied if the scholars can repeat their prayers at a speed 
that would defy the most skillful phonographer to report them. 

Could such an education as this make nol'le men and woman ? It 
could not. History clearly shows us that religion amongst a people with- 
out education, and in consequence deprived of a jiroper use of their 
reasoning faculties, degenerates into superstitions and silly ceremonies, 
which are only remnants of ancient barbarity. Man must use his intel- 
lect and reason in religion as well as in everything else. God surely 
did not give man the grand intellect he possesses to use it merely in the 
earthly business of his life, or require him to accept with unquestioning 
belief doctrines that descend to him froni his superstitious forefathers, or 
the many barbarous rites and ceremonies of his semi-civilized ancestors. 

There are but few who do not admire the truths of Christianity, and 
these truths we ought to follow as far as they tend to improve and elevate 
the human race; but those churches that wish to retain any influence on 
the mind of man must keep up with the progress of civilization. Those 
.that do not, and declare that theirs is a perfect church and keep its follow- 
ers in spiritual slavery and have not the moral courage to do away with 
every ceremony and doctrine that are repulsive to the nobler sentiments 
of this more enlightened age, will lose their power and surely ))erish 
before the invincible light of truth — for that age is fast approaching in 
which error cannot be hid. Whether it is spiritual or temporal, it will be 
exposed to the pure and searching light of civilization and will be judged 
accordingly by every civilized and intelligent man. 

Those churches that do not uphold the glorious principles of liberty 
and education, and whose churches are not surrounded with the evidences 
of the beneficial effects of their teachings, will be destroyed by the 
irresistible force of science and civilization. Though tyrannv, ignorance and 
superstition are still ascendant on the earth, casting a gloom on some of 
its fairest portions, it will ere long be dispelled and vanish as the light of 
science and civilization sjjreads throughout the earth. 

Let us not transmit to our descendants the religious error and 
superstition of our ancestors. 

Let us use wisely the reasonir.g powers we possess for the advance- 
ment of truth and mankind, even though spiritual tyrants may threaten us 
with condemnation for doing s®. Let us treat with scorn and contempt 
their impious threats and abuse and have our religion accord with science 
and reason, even though it may be called spiritual treason. And though 
some bigoted Christians may call it profanity, religion should not con- 
tradict science and humanity. 

In the secular education of man the great mistake made is that the 



life's real romance. '^5 

teaching of morals and the duties of life is ahno&t wholly left to the 
instruction of religious teachers. This should not be permitted in any 
civilized country—for, by this system, some of the youth of the countcy 
receive no training at all from their worthless and ignorant parents, and 
others receive the prejudiced and narrow-minded instruction of sectarian 
schools, which is totally unsuited for the production of patriotic and liberal 
minded citizens. 

The institutions of no nation are safe that gives perfect political and 
religious liberty to its citizens, and at 'he same time allows sects and 
denominations to give the inhabitants an education that is strictly antagon- 
istic to the institutions of the country. Sectarian education and ignorance, 
are, without doubt, the deadliest enemies to all Republican forms of 
government. A Republican form of government is the truest and best, 
when the mhabitants are suftkiently enlightened to truly appreciate the 
great blessings of religious and political liberty. But for bigoted and 
ignorant people, it is the vvorst form of government imaginable, for the 
very reason that liberty is put to a base and dishonorable use. And even 
in highly civilized countries like the United States, this unlimited political 
and religious lilierty is a source of danger to the institutions of the country 
on account of the treacherous and disloyal use that the Catholic church and 
some ot its followers make of it. As in New York, for instance, where the 
ignorant foreign element has become so powerful that they may be consid- 
ered the dominant party, and through their corrupt administration the civil 
governuient oi New York is one of the most extravagant in America. Is 
not this a shameful state of affairs in the metropolis of the nation ? A 
clear proof that it is the government's duty to Americanize and bring in 
harmony with the institution of the country all ignorant foreigners, by- 
obliging them to receive a liberal education at national schools, and to. 
disfranchise all those who through ignorance are unworthy to have a voice 
in the government of any civilized nation. Our government ought to 
awake to the reality of the responsibilities that devolve on it forming the 
character and sentiments of the rising generation of this country. 
Thousands of foreigners are yearly becoming citizens of this great republic. 
A great many of these, with many of the thousands already settled in the 
country, are giving their children an education that is making them narrow- 
minded, bigoted citizens. Many of whom through the pernicious influence 
of their education have only a half hearted loyalty to the institutions of 
this republic, and believe that they owe their first allegiance to their 
church and its spiritual ruler. If nothing is done to counteract this, and this 
class of citizens keep on increasing as they have done during the last half 
century, and our government admits a few more States with such ignorant 
people as the natives of New Mexico, the glorious institutions that our 
noble ancestors fought and died for, will be overthrown by the ignorant 
and prejudiced votes of the followers of a church that has already overthrown 
the institutions of Ancient Rome, Mexico, Peru and several other countries. 
All governments should adopt a national system of education. But for 
this Republic it is absolutely necessary to create universal peace, harmony 
and patriotism among its citizens, both native and foreign. All liberal 
and patriotic citizens of this republic should use their utmost endeavor to 
have a system of national schools established throughout every State of the 
Union with laws of compulsory atteiidance to those schools irrespective of 



'/5 life's real romance. 

r«Hgion or national ity^ giving; the youth of the country a good secular 
»jfKication and instruction in moral and nature's laws. This is all that is 
accessary to make good and useful citizens, and would counteract the 
pernicious effect of the prejudiced instruction that certain portions ot 
American citizens receive at their homes and in their churches from their 
spiritual instructors. If the rising generation of this Republic receive an 
edw«Rtion like this during the next half century, the country's institutions 
wi'll not be endangered by the Roman Catholic hierarchy or any other 
bierarchy. For the liberal national education will weaken the influence 
hI the priesthood on the minds of the people, to such an extent as to render 
ihem and their doctrines harmless. 

All men with a true interest in the progress of the human race 
should favor a system of universal, national education, that would teach 
man only the practical truths of life, which is required to make him a 
noble and sensible inhabitant of the world. Such an education as this 
would not make men infide-ls, alihough some, religious frauds and im- 
postor's declare that it would. It would not make men deny the existenc* 
of God, but would give them a higher and grander idea of His glorious 
majesty, and cast forever from the soul of man the shackles of spiritual 
slavery. To the want of this system of education, may be attributed most 
*f the evils of society of the present day. Though education in this coun- 
try has wrought a great and glorious work there still remains a great deal 
to accomplish; though schools and colleges are built throughout the land, 
ignorance has not disappeared. Thousands in ignorance still rem-ain a 
disgrace to the age we live in, because ignorant parents are unable to 
jfcilvtill into the minds of their children a worthy ambition to elevate them- 
lelves to that honorable position that the civilizing influence of education 
generally enables its lover to attain. And there are millions in a condition 
little better than that of ignorance; though they have gone to school and 
learned to read and write, they can only do so in a most indifferent manner; 
though they have the use of speech and sound intelligent brains, they can- 
net express their sentiments and ideas, in a clear and proper manner. Vet 
these people spen^l hours of precious time in senseless chat and silly games, 
and then falsely say, they have no time to educate themselves. The-re is 
not a man living, that cannot find time to give himself a good elementary 
education; even by studying only one hour a day, it can be accomplished. 
But, strange to say, this portion of mankind seem to be of the opinion that 
xvja»n's recreation must be of a frivolous and useless sort, such as silly, 
childish game> and conversation. Why should it? Surely man after 
physical exertion could just as well find physical rest, by taking advantage 
of the glorious opportunities that this age affords them, an age of cheap 
literature, clever authors and excellent newspapers, which are all capable 
of imparting both knowledge and pleasure at the same time. It must justly 
be acknowledged that aW men who disregard these advantages deserve 
the contemptible position they occupy in society of the present day, and 
have no reason to complain, if society refuses to tolerate them in its midst. 
For every man by self-culture can fit himself for the society of the liest edu- 
cated men and women of the present age. This to some may appear an 
exaggerated view of the question, but those who think so should bear in 
mind that a man need not be a Greek scholar or mathematician, to receive 
a welcome in the best of society. Any man who can grammatically and 



life's reat. romance. 77 



intelligently express his opinion on the leading topics of the day, can enjoy 
the society of the l)est men and women, no matter what his wealth 
or position may be. Ofcourse he is looked down on by the giddy masculine 
and feminine butterflies of fashion, but the opinion of such creatures as these 
doesnot deserve a moment's consideration, for that day is fast approaching 
when the intellectual beauty of the human mind, will be a better passjiort 
into society, than costly rlress or the possession of wealth. Even in the 
society of the present day, which almost worships the "almighty dollar," 
what a miserable and contemptible position does the vulgar wealthy maw 
©ccupyl he is merely tolerated by a certain class of good society. And to 
him is lost forever, one of the greatest pleasures of man on earth, that is 
the true enjoyment of the society of the best and most refined of mankind. 
If, however, the noble sons of toil deserve criticism for their want of self- 
culture, no words can express the contempt, that many of the members 
of the best society deserve for the idle, worthless lives they lead. For 
much to the honor of the sons of toil, and to the shame of the upper 
classes, the lower class of society has produced nearly as many great men as 
the upper class, and some of them have been the brightest ornaments (jf 
society. But what better can be expected when thousands of ladies and 
gentlemen think because they have an excellent education, elegant manners 
and great wealth that they can consider themselves exempt from all the 
labor and cares, physical and mental, of this life. On the contrary their 
greater advantages should inspire them with an e>Kilted desire to aconiplish 
much for the honor and advancement of themselves and the age they live 
in. A contrary idea, however, seems to be entertained by thousands of 
the members of the upper classes of the present day; the consequance is 
thousands of ladies and gentlemen with talents, wealth and education 
waste their valuable lives without accomplishing anything great, or good 
for themselves, or the age they live in. They may have been honest and 
virtuous men and women, and dressed in broadcloth and silk, wore 
diamond rings, kept many servants, kept a well furnished table and enjoy- 
ed life with their friends, but what of that? To them this was no credit; they 
only spent what their fathers earned, although they did not exceed th»ir 
income, they did not increase it. If all mankind were to act thus, civiliz- 
ation's progress would cease and man would become asiagnant and igpoble 
creature. It must not be imagined however, that these lazy, luxuri(jusand 
worthless inhabitants of the world, enjoy the highest degree of happiness. 
For the highest, purest and greatest happiness, can only be obtained by 
great and noble actions. It is the duty of good society to use its influence 
for the improvement, elevation and developement of the human race. 
For its mfluence is one of the greatest, most powerful and l)est means of 
educating man. But alasl even some of the best circles of society, forget 
their own and the country's honor; smile on men who are utterly destitute 
of most of the noltle attributes that man should possess, and for this reason 
the circles of some of the best of society, are disgraced with thousands of 
ladies and gentlemen, who pass through life in a careless, sluggish way, a 
living disgrace to society and themselves. There are also thousands of 
wealthy ladies, that W'aste their lives in doing nothing else than going to 
places of amusement, and in useless conversation in their drawing rooms. 
They do not even take care of their children; and in many cases the only 
useful work they do is a little ornamental crotchet. I would nut intention- 



78 life's real romance 



ally s€C^ one word to hurt the feelings of any lady, for we all owe them a 
debt of gratitude, for elegance, beauty and comfort of our homes, and for 
the elevating and ennobling influence they exercise on us as mothers, wives 
and sisters. But it must be acknowledged that ladies with the opportu- 
nities I have just mentioned, should have higher, nobler aspirations than to 
be merely a leader of fashions and a maker of anti-macassers. Could they 
not more honorably employ their time in perfecting their intellectual de- 
velopment, for there is nothing to prevent such ladies as these being bright 
lights in the literary and scientific world. It is no use for them to say 
"society does not expect this of us, it is satisfied if we merely remain as 
©riiamental dolls in our drawing rooms." If society did and does entertain 
this barbarous view of the question, there can be no doubt that it is quick- 
ly disappearing before the wiser and more civilized view that women ought 
and can be man's equal in intellectual pursuits, if she properly cultivates 
her intellectual povsers and that the physical and mental development 
of the human race is dependent upon physical and mental improvement of 
both sexes. Should not good society that takes an interest in man's im- 
provement make such ladies ashamed of their idle and useless lives, by 
refusing to tolerate them in its midst, and should not ladies that take a 
true interest in civilization refuse to acknowledge as friends all gentlemen 
vi-ho live worthless lives, no matter how polished they are or how well 
they may be received in that class of society who only regard a mans 
wealth and outer polish. Society ought to have an honorable ambition to 
incr,ease the nobility of man by encouraging every virtue that adds physical 
amd mental strength and beauty to the human race, and discourage all 
habits, customs and fashions, whether of dress or diet, or otherwise, that 
are detrimental to man's physical and mental development. Until society 
does this, the world will never fully realize the grand meanmg of the word, 
or what an exalted and noble beinsj man can become. 



LIFE'S REAL ROMANCE 

A PICTURE FROM LIFE FROM 1838 TO 1883, 



Volume 1 for sale at the leading book stores in Salt Lake City, at Harper Bre^.' 
Franklin Square Library, New York, and at W. Drysdales & Co.. 232 St. James Street. 
Montreal. 

The Second Volume uill be ready for sale by the fir.-,t of November. 



CONTENTS OF VOLUME SECOND. 

CuAi'TER I. — An English gentleman's opinion how farmer's daughters 
should be educated; a gloomy view of the prospects of England's trade and 
commerce; petty annoyances of life; an easily pleased lover; a death 
through carelessness; how poverty degrades the human race; a snow skoe 
tramp; the harmony and happiness of home life destroyed by a difference 
in religious belief between husband and wife. 

Chapter II. — A French trapper; an eloquent lecture by an American 
chaplain on his experiances of the misery endured by Northern soldiers in 
Libby prison; the elevating influence of music: a sad but true sketch of 
the depravity of some men; how a minister gains the attention and sympa- 
thy of his aiidience; an able defence of the profession of agriculture; an 
erroneous view of England's foreign policy; a tramp through the forest: the 
frost in winter: a horrible sight; worthless and light literature condemned; 
a fraudelent French woman; a sudden and suspecious death; a mixture of 
religien and superstition; a miserable specimen of humanity: strong drink 
and i_ts curse: a human lily wasting its sweetness on the desert air. " 

Chai'TER hi. — The dangers of law; a speculator's hasty accumula- 
tion of wealth; his indifference to the curses of the poor; a sketch of some 
French villages and their inhabitants; a Quaker's dodge to make money; a 
hopless courtship; how settlers in the backwoods spend their evenings; 
first operations on a bush farm: partners' disagreements; diogenism carried 
too far; an inconsistent son of Ireland; a miraculous escape;\vinter li-ft* in 
the back woods. 

Chaptkk IV. — Spring work on a bush farm: war's effect on tke 
cost of living; how land is cleared and a settler's first buildings put up: a 
pleasant trip on the St. Lawrance; a kind hearted lady and charmiiig 
hostess; the ravages of small-pox; how settlers spend their Sundays; a 
gawky rustic; a political ovation; the farmer's diet: the joys and sorrows 
of keeping bachelor'.s hall; Canadian milita; a clumsy recruit; expensive 



80 life's real romance. 



©rlucation: home life amongst the French; an Irish-Canadian wake and 
funeral: the noble sentiments of an association of young men; how young 
Frenchmen court their sweethearts; amusing incidents among the F'rench 
inhabitants. 

Chapter V. — Quebec politics; an extraordinary long letter, full of 
spiritual and temporal advice: a Canadian champion; a picture of a p^arty 
given by Fnglish settlers; my first attendence at midnight mass; a silent 
conflict between i|ight and wrong; a wolf in sheep's clothing; boyish love: 
French festivities before Lent; some of the inconsistencies of the Christian 
churches discussed, 

Chai'TER VI. — A French wedding described; in English districts; 
Traveling under difficulties; a second Vicar of Wakefield; first experience 
of farming on a cleared farm; a sugar party; good resolutions; a people de- 
void of the delicate sensibility of civilized men; the prayer of a young man 
religiously inclined; my first attempts at poetry; a conversation with two 
T'arisian socialists: myopinionson predestination; farming underdifficulties; 
the two wildest young ladies I ever met; a wealthy, vulgar. Bombastic 
family; a gloomy Englishman's letter; wise advise against the credit 
system; a discussion of Irish affairs with an Irishman. 

Chaiter VII.— My beau ideal of feminine grace and beauty; the 
errors of Romanism exposed; a prayer, to which even Infidels would not 
object; a. discussion between a high and low churchman; a country rustic 
among city ladies; how Canadian school teachers are treated; a Liberal's 
opinion on provincial politics; sentimental verses; an ambitious young 
man. 

Chai'TEk VIII.— A delightful evening party; the condition of farmers 
as a class discussed; some of the faults of French soldiers; Canadian winter 
sports; how young people enjoy a church decoration; rather rough French- 
men; many adverse and favorable opinions on army life; the Bible as a 
rule of faith: contem])tuous sarcastic letters: how the two lovers were 
parted; a sentimertal young man in yonng ladies' society. 

ChaI'TEK IX. — An evening with vulgar English girls; a young man 
ashamed of his grandmother; a spoiled son; an evening's conversation of a 
French family almost taken down veri)atim; a rustic's opinion of etiquette: 

Chap'I'ER X,— The course of study of English army ofificers compared 
with that of the United States; six letters of General Washington to an 
Irish friend of the American revolutionists; Canadian scenery described; 
condensed news of the day; valuable statistics. 

CONTENTS OF VOLUME THIRD. 

Chapter I. — Three years' correspondence between two Canadian 
farmers, containing much interesting and useful information of life on a 
farm; an eastern farmer's opinion of the great northwest; a village genius, 
criticisms on Canadian society; fragmentary verses on morality and religion. 

Chapier II. — A poem of 50 verses, describing from history the con- 
dition of the English people in the age of chivalry; a devoted admirer of 
music; how fair ladies encourage antagonisim amongst their admirers, 
amateur theatricals amongst country people; a poem revealing the darkest 
side of human nature; how I lost a grand opportunity; Canadian villages 
behind the age. 



LIFES REAL ROMANCE. J^] 

Chapter^ III.— Socialistic pugilistic laborers; a criticism on the 
churches of England; a red hot argument between a Catholic and a 
Protestant; sentimental verses; an evening spent with an upstart family; 
how the French-Canadians conductthemselves at a picnic; pugilistic young 
ladies; atrip ihrough the finest agricultural district of Canada; a flowery 
French-Canadian orator; how some of the Catholic churches are built in 
Canada; a district of drunkards; melancholy meditations of a love sick 
young man; a model lady guest. 

Chapter IV.— The terrific grandeur of forest fires; a Canadian 
exhibition at Montreal minutely described; a 60 verse poem describing 
early settlers' lives and difficulties in the Canadian backwoods; conflicting 
opinions on theater going; an inconoclastic letter; the trials of a drunkard's 
wife; the terrible death of a drunkard and opium eater; how much good 
a faithful Christian can accomplish; the letter of an ignoramus; a season 
of gaiety at the theaters, concerts, church bazars, socials and parties; a 
bitter denunciation of vulgarity; forcible arguments against fictitious super- 
natural religion. 

Chapter IX.— Everyday life amongst Canadian lumbermen; how- 
war might be suppressed; conflicting opinions for and against the Pope's 
temporal power; how farmers are ruined by the credit system; a very severe 
literary critic; a prejudiced view of the "far west"; an Irish land question 
ably discussed; a condensed history of Canada's greatest, city with inter- 
esting statistics; a religious, gentle, loving cousin j rather harsh opinions 
on Canadian farmers; noble resolutions of a young man; correspondence 
on war with many conflicting ideas on it; correspondence on education; 
evenings at cards, rides, drives, parties, dancing, cioquet, picnics and con- 
versations; Jewishism exposed as an enemy to civilization; Catholic and 
Protestant persecutions compared; love's ennobling influence; the scandals 
of a French village; English influence on the French-Canadians; a model 
letter of condolence; a quarrelsome husband and wife; old and new system 
of making maple sugar; death scene in a French-Canadian house. 

Chapter X.— A few specimens of terrible French oaths; the city and 
the country around Quebec described; an able defence of Roman Catholic- 
ism; selected letters from Irish correspondents containing much of interest 
about that country; England's policy in Ireland severely criticised; the 
opinions of Irishmen in Canada on Irish affairs: geology's contradiction of 
sacred history; resolutions of a pious young man; nature's noblemen and 
superficially polished gentlemen compared; disagreeable letters; an un- 
pleasant state of affairs; a Frenchman's grievances against his wife and his 
barbarous idea of his duty towards his children; seme incidents exhibiting 
the lamentable depravity of man; how an old maid was insalted; how 
English Protestants manage their church affairs in parts of Canada; verses 
containing a forcible condemnation of the despicable habit of quizzing; 
verses on childhood; various models of feminine loveliness described; 
thirty verses describing the advantages of an Irishman in America; a picnic 
amongst low, vulgar English settlers; selected English correspondence con- 
taining much of interest about England; French-Canadians and their 
lives criticised; the pernicious effect of vulgar associations; abandonment 
of farming; a miserable col'ege; a drunken French family; a sketch of 
different queer looking specimens of humanity, as seen in a country ball 
room; how the Italian musicians w^ere insulted; a perfectly impartial view 



,^2 LIFE S REAL ROMAN'CE. 



of the land question in Great Britian; in a drunken row amongst the 
French; an audacious young rascal's robbery; my last letter to a benefac- 
tor; farewellto old friends; Canadian scenery; condensed news and great 
events of the day; valuable statistics. 

CONTENTS OF VOLUME FOURTH. 

Chapter I. — Alone in the world on my own resources; rather severe 
letters from my relatives; life amongst the French in a far back settlement; 
a complete sketch of every process in the manufacture of the extract of 
hemlock bark; a kind hearted lady and fatherly gentleman; incidents 
showing that the religion of the French-Canadians is a mere formality; 
letters from home; letters from friends in England; my beau ideal of a 
perfect gentleman; a village visited by a flood; how disputes between 
French married people are settled; socialistic opinions on the extravagance 
of rich people; the trials of a poor clergyman's wife; one hundred and fifty 
superstitions; anecdotes of French-Canadians; another extraordinary long 
letter full of spiritual and temporal advice; an eloquent evangelical sermon; 
a visit home amongst old friends again; a sad example of the evil effects 
of even a moderate use of spirituous liquors; some of Canad's industries 
described; a romantic young lady; an Irishman's opinion on Irish griev- 
ances; how an employee can gain his employer's esteem; English enter- 
prise amongst the trench; architecture of French churches in the country 
criticised; how strong drink blunts the finer sensibilities of man's nature; 
numerous discussions with French Canadians on religion, giving many of 
their amus ingly primeval ideas on the subject; a sketch of a political cam- 
paign, and the political influence of priests; condensed news and great 
events and biographical sketches of some of the greatest men of the present 
day; classified statistics of Canada from its earliest settlement. 

Chapter II. — In the great Republic; an enthusiastic admirer of 
American civilization and progress; Americans compared with Canadian 
people; a minute description of the beautiful scenery and every village and 
town from Montreal via Saratoga to New York; the sights of New York; 
statistics of New York State and its chief cities; a defect of American 
civilization; from New York to Richmond by steamer; perfect description 
of several hundred miles of the most beautiful scenery in Virginia, of over 
one hundred villages and towns; selected statistics of Richmond, with 
much interesting information; out in the country; a sketch of some fine old 
Virginian homes; my first experience amongst a colored population; 
classified statistics of the State. 

Chapter III. — Grand mountain scenery of Western Virginia; statistics 
of the State and of its leading villages and towns;- Kentucky's wild, interest- 
ing scenery; some of the finest agricultural districtb in the country; statis- 
tics of the State and its largest cities; Ohio's pleasing scenery; Its statistics; 
complete statistics of Cincinnati, and Columbus; scenery of Indiana, its 
villages, towns and statistics; Illinois, its scenery, statistics of the State 
and of Chicago. 

Chai^ter IV. — Life in the far west; statistics, and the grand scenery 
of many ofthe Western States minutely described. 

Chapter V-VI-VII-VIII-IX. — Travel in Australia and islands of 
the Pacific, with a valuable and interesting collection of their statistics. 

Chapter X. — A short sketch of the Latter Day Saints and their 
history; complete statistics of Utah. 



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